Best Selves
by Firebird Scratches
Summary: The boys gather at April and Donnie's to watch the game, but April can't stay…Raph is pretty sure he knows why. Mostly 2012 'verse, but more like 2032 - and gleefully borrows from other 'verses. A look at the turtles in their 30's. Capritello, but everyone in the family gets a chance to shine. MA, for cussin', adult situations, and some smutty chapters. TW: The Giants are losing.
1. Chapter 1

"Okay," April said over her shoulder, "There's eggplant parm waiting in the oven, just set it for 350 about a half-hour before you're hungry, unless you guys are just gonna gorge yourself on wings all night, in which case you need to put it back in the fridge – "

She was rummaging around in her purse. They could hear her keys rattling but she didn't seem to be able to find them.

"I think we'll figure it out," Donnie replied, smiling without turning his head from the TV screen.

" – or it'll go bad and I got you that IPA you like on the bottom shelf," she sailed on, pulling her jacket on, "but I have no idea where the, uh – "

She absently mimed popping open a beer.

"Bottle opener, hon."

" – right, that's missing in action, but there's cans of that swill Raph likes in the crisper drawer." 

"Hey!" Raph protested. But he was ignored. As usual.

She swooped into the living room with a sigh, and gave Donnie a warm kiss. She stepped back a bit and turned in a circle so he could admire her outfit. Her skirt twirled a bit, and Raph caught himself glancing at her legs almost against his will. Her wedding ring caught the bluish glow of the TV and sparkled briefly.

"Yeah? I dunno, should I change?"

"Never. You're perfect," Don said, gazing at her adoringly. April's face softened as she peered deeply into his eyes. Raph shifted in his seat and tried to stare fixedly at the football game, but he could hear the rustle of her skirt as she knelt down, and her soft murmur just for Don.

"You're okay?"

"Go." Donnie soothed, "I'm having bro time."

April beamed, then turned to Don's brothers, and announced to the room, "I love my man." Mikey grinned and raised his beer in a mock toast in Donnie's direction. Raph thought he might puke.

"Ok, I'll be home tomorrow for brunch," she said, swooping in to give Donnie a final peck on the cheek, "And hey, I might even bring a guest with me."

"Oh? That'd be nice," Don smiled. Raph bit his cheek and looked away. He couldn't stand to see his brother made a fool of like this, couldn't believe she would actually have the nerve to drag that scum back to the apartment and rub it in his face like that.

"Bye guys," she said

"Later, April," Leo said, "Sorry you couldn't stay."

"Yeah, I've just been saying I would, and – bad timing. Next time," she promised them.

"Lie," Raph told himself mentally, observing the tic of her neck muscles, the way her eye subtly scanned the room assessing their reaction, evaluating whether she seemed casual enough.

"Have fun," Donnie called, "Tell him 'Hi.' Y'know, from us."

Raph eyed the sappy, puppy-love face Donnie was making and resisted the urge to throw his half-empty beer can at his head. He must have been making some kind of face, because Leo subtly kicked him in the shin, and smoothly disguised the maneuver by settling back into the couch and placing his ankle over his knee in a lazy figure four.

"I'll text you goodnight," April promised Donnie, and finally, she was out the door. They heard the jangle of her keys and the deadbolt slide. There was a pause as the sound of her high heels faded down the hallway.

"'Tell him hi?'" Raph quoted at Don, deliberately ignoring Leo's earlier signal to drop it, "Just, 'Tell him hi_, y'know, from us?!'_ " He jabbed sarcastic quotes in the air around his can of beer.

He felt Leo's posture stiffen in annoyance next to him.

"Yep," Donnie replied, deflecting Raph's attack just as he might have with his bo staff. "Just 'Hi.' Who's got possession, I wasn't even paying attention?"

"Giants are down by seven, Pats have the ball" Mikey hurriedly supplied, eager to circumvent the coming storm, "But it's fourth down, so they might go for a – "

"I'm not saying _'hi,'_ " Raph said, bluntly, "I'm not saying _'hi,'_ to Casey_ Jones_. Look, I'm just gonna say what we're all thinkin' here. She's cheating on you. _Again._"

"Raph!" Leo admonished.

"It's not that, Raph, it's just, they're gonna get out late, and it's kind of a drive, and – " Donnie started explaining lamely, but Raph had already come too far and said too much to be deterred now.

"Look, that asshole as much as _told _me so, Donnie, I asked him point blank, and you know he can't wipe that shit-eating grin off his face when he's lying. I wanted to knock his fancy new teeth out, and I'm the one that usually _likes _the guy. How can you _not see_ this?"

"Because I do see it," Donnie muttered under his breath.

"_What?!"_

Donatello sighed.

"I know," he said, simply.

Raph was brought up short, and could only blink for a moment. He made eye contact with Leo surreptitiously, and could see that even he was surprised by this turn of events. On screen, there was a muffled referee whistle, and the crowd booed ominously.

"Don't worry about it, Raph," Don said, coolly, and turned back to the game.

"Um," said Mikey, hesitantly slinking from the armchair "Who's ready for another cold one? Leo? Cuz I was gonna – "

"Don't WORRY about it?!" he turned to his brothers for an appeal, "Do you hear this shit?"

Mikey slunk guiltily back into the armchair, diversion failed.

Leo sighed, "Raph, you're not help – " 

"What do you mean you _KNOW_?!" Raph exploded, "And that's _it_? How long has this shit been going on, Donnie?!"

Leo put a restraining hand firmly on Raph's bicep, "That's none of our – ."

"The _HELL_ it's not!" Raph said, smacking Leo's hand away and jostling his beer so a few drops fell onto the coffee table and the carpet.

"Coasters," Mikey interjected feebly.

Raph wheeled on Donatello again, jabbing an accusing green finger his way, "How can you just SIT there and let her walk out the door?! That's your _wife_! _Your._ Wife, Donatello!"

Don shrugged and simply said:

"I love her."

"So you just let her _GO_?" Raph asked, his eyes round in shock.

Donatello just nodded.

"And then she comes home. To me."

"Leo," Raph said, turning to his right, "Talk to him."

Leo shifted uncomfortably in his seat, "I think what Raphael is…we're just worried about you Donnie. I mean, I love April too, but you shouldn't have to just shoulder this. You deserve – "

"You deserve not to be two-timed by your own damn WIFE!" Raph roared, "Geezus, aren't you_ PISSED_? Isn't this _KILLING_ you? It's killing _ME_ and I'm not the one married to the little – "

"Hey," Don said, his voice suddenly stony, "I _AM_ the one married to her. So watch it."

There was another awkward pause, until Raph set his beer down and turned in his seat to face Donatello.

"Okay," said Raph, "Okay, Donatello: it's just me, here. This is your brother talking, who _cares_ about you, who fuckin' _LOVES _you, idiot, who stood up at your damn wedding, and I – I don't _get_ this. Okay? I mean, I know I'm not the _smart_ one, but this, I just DO not get. If you can explain it to me, I am all ears. How the hell is this okay? What am I missin' here?"

Raph could sense Leo and Mikey behind him, listening carefully. Typical. They wanted an explanation just as badly as he did, but as usual, were relying on him to the say the things no one else wanted to say.

Donnie sighed, grabbed the remote, and turned off the game. He sat forward in his chair, and the silence stretched out for a moment before he turned to address all three of his brothers. 

"Look, no offense, Raph – or to any of you – but like you said…I'm supposed to be the 'smart one,' right? Did you really think I had no idea what was going on?"

"But D," said Mikey, squirming uncomfortably in his armchair, his can of beer sweating a ring into the upholstery, "She's cheatin' on you, bro."

Donnie smiled, and shook his head, "No, she's not, Mikey."

"But you_ JUST_ said – " Raph exploded.

"_RAPH_," Leo interrupted, using his 'leader' voice, "You wanted an explanation, let him talk."

Raph stubbornly folded his arms across his plastron, and then gestured ill-temperedly that Donatello had the floor.

Donnie sighed.

"I knew," he said, "I knew it was going on, even before we got married."

"_Shit!_" Raph cursed under his breath, then withered under a glare from Leo, "What, I can't even _react_ now?"

"Go on, dude," Mikey prompted, "We're listening."

Don rested his elbows on his knees, and leaned towards his brothers.

"It started with the little signs, you know…the constant text messages…locking her T-phone. Him stopping by because he just 'happened to be in the neighborhood'…they met up for lunch a few times. One night I came home and they were laughing their heads off about something, and she had her legs on his lap…you know, just small things…individually you could dismiss them, but all together…it was setting off alarm bells."

Raph clenched and unclenched his fists, wishing he could flip April's fugly coffee table and its stupid coasters right into their flat screen. Though he supposed it was also technically Donnie's flat screen. Damnit, not again. How could they? How could _she_? He was going to break every bone in Casey Jones' flea-bitten body, and then tell April what he really thought of –

"And yeah," Donatello admitted, nodding at the carpet, "For a while, it made me crazy. We started fighting about it. And then one day I come home from patrol and I walk in on them kissing. And – the whole thing just blew up. I mean, with the yelling, and the crying, and the…throwing…stuff. And then halfway through, I just realized I was tired of it. That we'd been doing this dance for years, and I was sick of it, and I just said, 'Enough.' You know? 'Enough, I can't do this anymore. It's killing me.'"

Raph felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He had no idea it had already gotten this bad between Donnie and April. Was this it? Game over? Was this Donatello's way of telling them they were…what, separated now? Or getting…he didn't even want to think the word.

"So I said, 'We are going to sit down, like people, and talk this out, once and for all.'" Donnie continued. "And we sat down right over there -

Donatello hooked his thumb over at the breakfast bar where April had been rummaging through her purse just minutes ago. The three brothers felt their eyes drawn to the spot as though it was haunted.

" – and we talked it out. "

Donnie paused, nodding seriously at the carpet. Then, as though the matter were closed, he heaved a deep sigh, leaned back and turned the television back on.

"Woah," Raph interjected, "Whoa, whoa, whoa, just – hang on – time out."

He snatched the clicker out of Donnie's hand and turned the TV off again.

"And you're just…okay with this? This is just how it works now?"

"Yeah," Donnie said, meeting his brothers' eyes for the first time, "I'm okay with this."

Raph searched his brother's brown eyes for signs of a lie…as smart as Donatello was – and Raphael didn't know anyone on Earth, human, turtle, or otherwise who was smarter than his poindexter brother – Donatello had a unique talent for denial, for the ability to lie to himself, to push his own needs aside, especially when it came to the people he loved. But he saw none of the anguish he recognized from the old Donnie-loves-April-loves-Casey-hates-Donnie-hates-Casey drama: None of the jealousy, none of the moodiness, or anxiety showed in Donatello's level gaze.

"Bullshit," Raph said, sitting back, "Nope. Sorry, I call bullshit. No way are you okay with this."

Donnie simply shrugged. "April has always had a soft spot in her heart for Casey. Hell, we all do, in a way. I mean, none of us can count on one hand the number of times he's saved our lives in battle– "

"But dude," Mikey interrupts, "We've haven't got that many fingers."

Raph shot him some side eye.

"Just lightening the mood," he said, and sipped his beer nervously.

They wisely chose to ignore this as Donatello continued:

"The more I tried to push Casey out of April's life, the more I tried to…to _own_ her, the more resentful she felt. The harder I tried to be _everything_ she needed, the more suffocated she felt – I just ended up driving her right into his arms. And then, of course…relationship-wise, they were _terrible_ together – "

Donnie actually snorted, and Raph's brow shot up even higher. He was _laughing_ about this?

"I mean, just _disastrous _ - well you remember how it was."

Raph had to admit…Don had a point. They had been doing this triangular square dance for years before they finally got married…It always started out well with Donnie and April – then he got clingy, she felt smothered, he felt jealous, and then came the endless, tearful "I need space," and "bad timing," and "different directions," talks, followed by months of Donny moping around. By contrast, the inevitable "Casey and April" chapters of the turtle family saga were always marked by pure, volatile combustion. They argued so often and so loudly, even a guy like Raph, who enjoyed a good argument, couldn't stand being around them. Yet, he couldn't deny the spark of passion that ignited between them. Just thinking about it now, thinking about what April and Casey were bound to get up to tonight, made his chest ache for his poor brother.

"Donnie, you…You are a great guy. You deserve…everything," he said weakly, and to his horror felt a lump rising in his throat. "You deserve _her_ everything, not her…scraps."

"I _have_ everything, Raph," Donatello said earnestly. "April isn't _scraps _– she's my wife.We still love each other, maybe even more than before. No, I _mean_ it, Raph. Because I think maybe…I think real love means letting the people you care about be themselves. Even the, uh…well, things between April and I…y'know…like, the…husband and wife stuff…has been…"

He blushed, grinned, and interrupted himself with a cough. "Well, you see what I'm getting at."

"_'Sex,'_ Donatello," Raph deadpanned, "You're thirty years old, you're telling me point blank that your wife is out screwing another guy _as we speak_, and you can't say the word 'sex' in your own damn living room."

Mikey giggled, then made a weird choking noise. They turned to look at him.

"Sorry," he said, pawing at his face, "Sdorted by beer."

"Anyway, things with us have never been better," Don continued hastily, "Truth be told, it's…like a weight has been lifted. Even Casey and I are getting along."

"Pfft…why not," Raph muttered, "You certainly share a common interest. _Ow_. I swear to God, Leo, if you elbow me one more time – "

"Look," Don continued, "I know it seems complicated on the surface, but it's real simple, guys. When April has what she needs – when she's happy – I'm happy. One day, I just realized that's all I really wanted. And once she realized that…she just wanted _me _to be happy. And Casey…well…"

"Obviously _he's_ happy," Raph grumbled.

Donatello gestured to the door, where April had just left.

"This thing with us – it just works. We all just seem like – better versions of ourselves this way. Our best selves. The kind of people that care more about each other than we do about ourselves."

Raph pondered this silently.

"You know," Mikey piped, "I knew you seemed happier since you got married, Don. But I figured it was just cuz you and April were finally…you know, had it all figured out."

Don smiled, "Well…I think we do, Mikey."

There was a pause where no one seemed to know what to say so they all looked at their beers.

"Well, alrighty then." Mikey said, grinning that toothy grin that still looked childlike, no matter how old they got. "So long as you're happy, dude, I'm down with it. Man, it's always the quiet ones, right? Go Team…uh…Apri…Donne…lly?…WAIT, DUDES, I GOT it: Quesaprillo."

"Quesaprillo?" Leo echoed, weakly.

"Yeah," Mikey said, beaming, "Cuz it kinda sounds like 'quesadilla,' which is like a hot, cheesy sandwich, and – ."

"STOP, STOP, STOP, WE GET IT, STOP," Raph said, squeezing his fists into his eyes until he saw stars, and mentally reaching for the brain bleach, "Ugh, we are way too related for this conversation. Oh God," he added, the thought just occurring to him, "You don't – the three of you don't – "

"What? NO. Nooooo no no, heh heh, no. Not that there's anything – I mean, not judging, but uh, no, that's really not our, we don't, that's not how this - no." Donnie replied eloquently.

"Thank you, Turtle Jesus," Raph muttered, "'Cause I really don't think I could come back from knowing that."

"Well," Leo said, measuredly, "I guess…if this really makes you happy, Donny. I'm assuming we're keeping this from Master Splinter?"

"Um," Donnie said, rubbing the back of his neck nervously, "Well, I think he actually…might warm up to the idea. Eventually."

Raph snorted, "Are you kidding? _Sensei_? Sure, he's only what, three hundred years old now, and has a stick up his ass the size of your bo staff? No, I'm sure he's just gonna roll with this. Maybe have the paddles ready, just in case."

"Hey, Don" Leo said, obviously still a bit a concerned for his brother, "Just make sure everyone is being…y'know, careful. You don't want…"

But he trailed off and got a strange look in his eye. Raph followed Leo's gaze to Donnie's face, and saw that Donnie's expression was reddening even further and he couldn't meet Leo's eyes.

"Wait," Leo said, his eyes widening, "Wait." 

Don had closed his eyes, but he was starting to smile crookedly.

"No shit," Leo breathed it like a prayer, a rare grin spreading over his face like a New York City sunrise through the concrete canyons. "No _shit_, Donatello."

Raph blinked in surprise. He had a mouth like a sailor, but couldn't remember the last time Fearless let one fly. It was…unsettling…but something in Leo's expression…

"What?" Mikey asked, leaning forward petulantly, "What?! Tell me, guys, what am I missing?"

The gears in Raph's brain finally, creakingly clunked into place.

"A guest," Raph muttered, "April said she might bring home…"

A sudden jolt of adrenaline shot through his heart, and he sprang out of his seat so fast, he ended up standing on the sofa, like that whack job actor guy.

"YOU LITTLE MUTANT," he roared. The fierce, exhilarating joy in his chest was fighting to claw its way through his doubt and apprehensions like a wild, caged thing, and to his horror he heard his voice cracking with emotion. "ARE YOU SERIOUS? ARE YOU SERIOUS, DONATELLO? 'CAUSE IF YOU'RE FUCKIN' WITH US, I SWEAR TO GOD…."

"April's gonna kill me," Donnie giggled ruefully, "We weren't going to say anything until we had actual – "

"CASEY," Raph stammered, sitting back down and trying to contain his shouting, "AND CASEY, HE'S – he's cool? He's on board, just like that?!"

"Well, not 'just like _that._'" Donnie said, "But yeah. He's on board. He keeps insisting that he wants to do this for _us_. For April and…for me."

Don tried to compose himself as his voice broke. "He says…he says he just wants us to be happy."

Leo clapped both his hands over his mouth. His eyes were sparkling, and Raph felt his own tears starting, despite his best efforts.

Don kept up his rapid-fire babbling, "I mean, given the nature of our...we knew if this was ever going to happen for us, it would have to be a _unique_ situation, and he still wants to be involved and – Look, it was always going to be complicated, but we're just going to take it one day at a time, and – "

"You're going to be great," Leo breathed, "All of you."

"Thanks," Don snuffed, "So are you."

There was a tinny clank as Mikey slammed his beer can on the coffee table, recklessly ignoring the coaster protocol, and assumed a fighting stance.

"If somebody doesn't tell me what the shell is going on," he threatened, "I am going to beat all of you up. 'Cause you guys're _freakin' me out_, man."

Raph laughed, the sound bubbling up from deep inside him like water from a fountain. "Mikey, you _idiot."_

"Tell him, Don," Leo beamed, "Go on, tell him." He punched Raph in the arm again, once, twice, three times - but this time it was a celebration, and Raph gleefully put his arm around Leo's shoulders and crushed his obnoxious older brother fiercely to his shell like he would never let go.

He suddenly realized with a wrench in his chest that he had written this off so long ago, so long ago decided it would never happen, not for any of them, filed it away as just another Thing We'll Never Have, assumed that one day the last traces of his strange, weird, wonderful family would just disappear from the Earth entirely but now his stupid face was leaking and he was actually hugging Fearless and holy shit and holy SHIT and now Mikey was jumping up and down and there goes the fugly coffee table after all, and he swore to himself that the next time he saw Casey Jones he _was _gonna break his fancy new teeth for keeping this a secret and then he was gonna drag him to the nearest bar and buy that man a drink.


	2. Chapter 2

"Accch," Casey Jones hissed, teasing one of his implants, the incisor, gently with his tongue, "No shit, Raph, I think you knocked one of 'em loose."

"Yerr lucky s'all I did, ya big BABY," Raphael slurred, pointing the long neck of his bottle in Casey Jones' general direction. He snorted. "Heh. Geddit? _Baby_." He did a terrible impression of his Dad, "_I made a funny_."

"Yeah, clever, Raph," Casey smirked, "You're a real friggin' Shakespeare."

"You and April," Raph wheezed with glee, and slapped him on the back, "Haaaaaah! I _knew_ you an April were at it again. Who's got two green thumbs and called _THAT_ one a mile off?"

Casey couldn't help it, he turned bright red and laughed along to Raphael's helpless, drunken wheeze-laughter.

He was a bit more sober than his little green pal, but Casey figured Raph had gotten a good head start over at Donnie's. Still, Splinter wouldn't be thrilled when Raph didn't show up at the lair tonight. But at this point, what could he honestly do about it? Gum him to death? Raph was way past the age of doing push-ups for breaking curfew. Past the age of getting fall-down drunk, truth be told, but that was a conversation for another time. Besides, it was a celebration.

Casey briefly wondered if he should call, but then shrugged the thought away. Leo always took care of that crap when Raph was "indisposed." In fact, he'd probably been there for hours already, having already checked in on Sensei, made sure he'd remembered to take his meds, and all that. Someone had to be the responsible brother, he guessed. He eyed Raph out of the corner of his eye, at his shit-faced, sloppy green grin, and grimaced. Yeah, Raph was definitely going to be couch-surfing Chez Jones tonight.

It was the wee morning hours when Raph had showed up. April was already snoring softly and Casey was just drying off from the shower when Raph had ambushed him and whupped his half-naked ass up and down the apartment (damn near took his head off, too) laughing like a maniac and cussin' him out the whole while.

"Casey?!" April's voice had sounded shrilly from the bedroom at the sounds of combat, "_Casey?!"_

She came pelting out of the bedroom clutching a Louisville slugger, wearing Casey's saggy wifebeater and a pair of socks, just in time to see Raph standing over him in the kitchen, and watch him snap his bare ass with the stolen towel, announcing "_That's_ for keepin' secrets, ya _bum_."

Yeah, by that point, Jones'd pretty much figured out that the cat was out of the bag.

April'd given Raph an earful (and almost a batful) but it was like he didn't even hear it. He just grinned at her dopily like Mikey, parried her half-hearted swing with the slugger, and instead, used the opportunity to pull her into a big hug and a wet, boozy kiss on the cheek, tellin' her what a great Mom she was gonna be (April's eyebrows almost hit the ceiling) and that she was like a _sister,_ damnit, a _sister _to him, and if she or Casey or Donnie or the kid ever needed anything, _anything _at all, he'd be there, swear on a stack of Bibles (which was pretty laughable, since near as Casey could tell, the Hamato clan's religion was technically some flavor of Buddhism, and Raph's religion was technically some flavor of beating up lowlifes.)

Yeah, Raph was definitely faced, but at least he was an affectionate drunk – one of his nicer qualities, Casey reflected. It seemed though, unfortunately, that the happier he was about the whole situation, the madder April got that he even knew about it in the first place. She'd dialed Donnie up over the T-phone, and jerked her thumb at Raph, fuming at Casey to "get him the hell out of here," muttering under her breath about turtles and brothers and drinking and the history of bad ideas. Not needing to be told twice, Casey pulled his jeans on, and pulled a battered Maple Leafs jersey over his bare chest.

"Hello? Yeah, _hi,_ honey. No, _we're_ not in danger. _You_, on the other hand…oh, he's here alright, and feelin' no pain. Hey, guess what? Your complete inability to lie? No longer _adorable_," she'd grumbled into the well-weathered T-phone, "_Not_ adorable. Problematic."

Looking up from the phone in irritation, she waved them out of the door again. Hurriedly backing out with a grimace, Casey dragged Raph to Candy's place, thanking his lucky stars, not for the first or the last time, that most of April's temper was landing comfortably in Donatello's capable olive hands these days.

He picked at the label on his Molsen idly, brought back to the present moment. His nerves still felt kinda jangly now that everything was out in the open, not just about the baby (Knock on wood. He tapped his knuckles lightly on the bar) but about this thing with him and April…well, him and April _AND_ Donnie, he guessed.. April was definitely annoyed at the way it had all come to light – and given Raphael's _colorful_ reaction, he could get why. At the same time it was sort of a relief, not to have to lie to his friends, especially Raph. He'd hated lying to Raph.

He imagined Leonardo was gonna give him the stink eye and possibly even a thinly-veiled lecture about family or responsibility the next time he saw him. Pfft. Let 'im. Casey Jones was no stranger to being judged. He knew what they had was weird but he also knew, beyond doubt, that it was good. And honestly, at the end of the day, Leo was a walkin', talkin', ninja-kickin' turtle just like the rest of them, so really, who was he to decide what's weird? Besides, Casey correctly surmised that the prospect of an adorable rugrat in-bound had softened any objections to the notion.

He felt fiercely protective of the little pocket of joy he'd managed to carve out for himself in this ugly world. Since he'd started patrolling with Raph, and fighting alongside the turtles and April all those years ago, he'd seen some heavy shit go down. Things didn't always turn out nicey-nice. Happy endings were hard to come by. This situation with him and April and Donnie could've ended bad, real bad. Still could, he guessed. But he was kinda proud of himself, proud of all of them, that they'd sat down and decided that it didn't have to go down like that. That they'd actively chosen to do better, to be better people in a way – bigger people.

He successfully peeled the label and started rolling it in his thumbs. That night, making love with April, it'd been – different. He thought back to the scene on his ugly yellow sofa just a few hours ago, the ugly yellow sofa where he supposed he'd be depositing Raph in a few hours.

"Alright," she'd announced, unbuttoning her blouse pretty much as soon as she'd closed the door behind her, a hungry look in her eye, "let's do this."

"Woah, woah," Casey had said, pausing the Giants, "Time out, angel face. _'Hi, Casey, how are you? Oh, that's nice. Me? I'm fine.'_"

"'Hi, Casey,'" April recited in a bedroom voice, shimmying out of her skirt and reaching up to unhook her bra, "'How _are _you? Oh, that's _nice_.'" She kicked the skirt to the side, along with her heels.

"'Me? I'm _ovulating_.' Lose the pants, Jones."

"Hey," he'd said, feeling awkward, as she crossed the final gap between them, and started running her hands over his chest, looping one knee casually over his thighs to straddle him on his ugly yellow couch, "Hey, just – damnit, _wait _a minute."

He seized her wrists and lifted her hands away, suddenly feeling ill-used, and hollow. A flare of old jealousy flickered in his chest.

"That how you wanna play it, Jones?" April said, eying his grip on her wrists with a smirk, "Not your usual repertoire, but I'm game."

"Funny, O'Neil. That all I am to you these days?" he'd asked, trying not to sound too hurt, and mostly failing, "A means to an end?"

April's expression had softened at this. Her wrists still pinioned, she slowly leaned forward. At first he turned his head away slightly, indignant and not wanting to let her off the hook so easily, but he knew he couldn't resist that look in her eye, and soon surrendered to her tender, scorching kiss. Casey groaned appreciatively into her mouth, feeling his body give way to the old familiar dance.

_They're playin' our song.  
><em>  
>He brought her wrists behind her back, kissed her jaw, and nibbled his way to that part of her neck that drove her crazy. He wondered fleetingly if Donnie had found it yet, and decided it'd be weird to ask. She purred like a kitten, and ground her hips deliciously into him, her body already making promises for later.<p>

"Atta girl," he muttered into her ear, taking the lobe in between his teeth, flicking her earring around with his tongue, "There you are. Slow down a minute. No hurry, no worry."

"Thank you," April whispered. He was surprised to hear the emotion in her voice, and pulled back so he could make eye contact with her.

"I mean it, Jones," April said, and the bald love and gratitude Casey saw beaming there in those baby blues made his breath catch in his broad chest. Suddenly, he wasn't a hulking beefy lummox anymore, he was a scrawny little kid in a spray-paint-stained hoodie, cupping his very first boob in awe, wondering how the hell he got so lucky, and April, always April, always two steps ahead, giving him that sexy little smirk.

"Thank you," she whispered again, and leaned in to place a kiss on one eye, then the other, "Thank you."

She kissed his jaw and his Adam's apple, "Thank you. Thank you."

He knew she meant more than just "thank you."

"Alright, alright already," he growled, a warm, bittersweet pang pooling in his chest, "Enough with the mushy stuff."

April smiled a crooked little smile.

"You know…we don't have to do this tonight, Casey. If you're having second thoughts, we can just have a nice night together, and maybe next time– "

"Woah, woah, hey – what? Flag on the play." Jones said, pulling her away slightly to glare, "Don't go puttin' words in my mouth, Red."

She sat back a bit, sinking onto his knees.

"I just want to make sure everyone feels right about this," she said, "This is a real _person_ we're talking about making. I just want to make sure you're still…y'know. Enthusiastic about the idea."

"Hey. I got plenty of enthusiasm," Casey grinned cheekily, and ground his hips up towards her, straining against his jeans, but she just rolled her eyes.

"Hey," Casey insisted, "Look at me. Naw, hey – show me those peepers."

He looked into her eyes, and tried to show her as he spoke, willed her to read him, like an open book: "I want this. I want this for _you, _April. _And_ for Donnie. For the both of yuz."

"But what about wanting it for _you_, Casey?" April asked, those piercing blue pools of concern breaking his heart, "This is a big deal. It's going to be your kid, too. You know that, right? You know how important you are to…us…how…"

She hesitated, and it made him smile to see that even after all these years, even sitting there naked in his lap, she was still shy. She and Donnie said "I love you" about sixty times a minute, they probably spelled it out in their Alphabits every morning, but with Casey, well – they said it in different ways, he guessed. It was kind of sweet, watchin' her struggle to get the words out.

"Do you know how much you mean to me?" she whispered, gazing at his chest, unable to look him in the eye.

Casey's eye roved over her body, nicely displayed for him, her slender wrists still firmly in his grasp. God, those freckles really did go everywhere. His eyes wandered down from her breasts to her bellybutton, wondering what that belly would look like, growing each month, growing with their baby. The thought was oddly pleasing, in a primal kinda way.

He knew that even though he would technically be the father, this baby was going to be theirs, really. Let's face it, he wasn't Father-of-the-Year material – loudmouthed and crass, scraping rent together for this shitty little apartment, vigilante-ing around town with Captain Charisma…hell, Donnie and April were a couplea bonafide geniuses: he only barely got his GED thanks to them. Truthfully, he was relieved that if he was gonna be doing this whole fatherhood thing, he'd have plenty of help so he didn't fuck it up too royally.

He thought about all the single fathers in his life…his own Dad, who raised him and his kid sister on his own – not perfect, but always doing his best. Kirby, who'd always been really cool to him when he and April were dating, even though he was pretty sure a meathead like himself was the last thing Kirby wanted for April. And of course, Master Splinter…hell, if he did half as good a job as a Pop as Master Splinter had done with the turtles, he'd be doin' fine.

He grinned and allowed himself to daydream a bit…about takin' the kid to his first Devils game, teachin' him to hate the Rangers…givin' him a buck for his first lost tooth...Christmas up at the farmhouse, sitting on the floor in front of the tree with the rugrat, unwrapping his first skates…April scowling disapprovingly from the couch, with Donnie's green arm slung around her shoulders, beaming at his weird little family.

Casey felt a sudden surge of affection for Donatello, much to his own chagrin. They'd wasted way too much energy over the years hating each other. Whatever else, Donnie made April happy – he always seemed to know just what she needed, just what to say, just when he needed to shut up and listen…Casey never knew what to say. Casey never knew when to shut up. Casey made things worse – Donnie made things better. And what he was doing – to see this whole situation for what it was, and to accept it – that took guts. And a whole lotta heart. But then, Casey'd always known, if anybody had guts and heart to spare, it was Donnie. Everybody thought it was his brains that made him special, but April had always seen what really made him special, and now Casey saw it too, through her eyes.

Those eyes…he wondered if the baby would have her eyes. He kinda hoped so.

"Earth to Jones," April flatly interrupted his reverie "Paging Casey Jones. We're kind of in the middle of a tender moment, here?"

"Hey. You wanna know something?"

"What?" she asked, cautiously.

He pulled her close again, and growled, "You talk too much. Let's give that pretty mouth something else to do, hm?"

"You're the boss, Mr. Jones," she murmured breathlessly, "By the way: Donnie says 'hi,' and 'have fun.'"

Casey chuckled darkly. "'Hi,' and 'have fun,' huh?"

He leaned forward and gave her a rough hickey on her collarbone.

"Hey, ow!" she snapped, leaning back.

"There," Casey said, waggling his eyebrows, "Now I'm sayin' 'Hi,' _and_ havin' fun."

April pursed her lips in a wry grin. "Asshole."

"Not tonight, doll body," Casey smirked, "We're on a mission."

He laughed as her jaw dropped in disgust. She probably woulda slapped him and he was glad he still had her by the wrists.

He knew he'd never have all of her – knew that her heart would always belong to Donatello, but he also knew, knew before they'd ever sat down and said it out loud, that there was always gonna be a little corner of that heart that belonged just to himself. He felt it when her breath was hot and ragged in his ear, in that wordless, breathless moment of eye contact they made just as she came. That little moment, that wide-eyed expression of awe and gratitude in her face – the first time he saw it, he knew he was fucked, knew that from that point on, whenever she said "jump," he'd be there saying "how high?" He saw in the little glances she sent his way across the room…even in the way they fought. Nobody fought like that unless they really gave a damn. And it almost didn't matter whether he was this kid's "real" father or not – that little patch of heart already made them family forever. 

And then April did that thing she did and he reflected that he was glad their relationship was a bit more than familial.

"Wipe that goofy grin off your face, ya perv, I know that look."

Candy's harsh voice brought him back to reality. Michael Jackson was on the jukebox, and grinning, he crooned along tunelessly in reply, "Ain't nobody's bidness…Ain't nobody's bidness but -

"_MINE AN' MY BABY'S_," Raph bellowed like a rhinoceros, "Hahaha! '_G'wan girl!'_ Ohhh shit, DUDE, wait, y'got…liss'nme."

Casey rolled his eyes apologetically at Candy, the bartender, as she mirthlessly cleaned glasses behind the bar.

"What if – what if issa _GIRL_, Casey?!" Raph sighed, his eyes wide with wonder, "What – whaddaya do wit…a _GIRL_?"

"Hey," Casey beamed, "I think we've established I know exactly what to do with a girl, amirite? That's what got us into this mess."

Raph suddenly scowled fiercely, and hammered Casey in the shoulder, hard.

"Hey!" Casey said, brushing his hand away abruptly, "Enough, already! You got me!"

"You – " Raph said, pointing a green finger in the rough direction of Casey's face, "Shoulda tol' me. And also you gotta clean – it up, mafren. No more," he waved a thick green arm around the bar, his ropey biceps flexing, "Of this shit."

"Hey," Candy protested, in annoyance.

"An also you shoulda tol' me, an also…you gotta… clean it…up. Your act. Clean up your act."

Casey snorted. _Raphael_ telling him he had to get his act together. Right. He was about to retort when, to Casey's horror, it looked like Raphael might bawl again like a little girl.

"A baaaaaaaby," Raph sighed, and slung an arm around Casey's shoulders, "Fuckin' A, man, you an'…April an' Donnie, an'…with the kid, I freakin' – no, listen, CANDY!" he roared suddenly, "YO, CANDY!"

"I'm right here, Raph, Jesus," Candy snickered, and started mopping the bar in front of Raph, "What, baby? Just tell me, you don't gotta shout."

"I'm gonna be an uncle," Raph said, drawing himself up to full height on his bar stool. He half-turned and addressed the empty bar, "AN UNCLE!"

"So I hear," Candy said, eyeing Casey with an arched eyebrow. Casey squirmed a bit under her glance. She didn't seem too thrilled.

"An uncle…cuzza THIS GUY," Raph drawled, "This guyyyyyyy." 

He tried to punch Casey under the chin, missed, and almost fell off the bar stool. 

"Woah!" Casey said, laughing and catching Raphael, forgetting just how heavy he was. He felt the edge of his shell dig into his forearms and he knew that would have weird bruises later.

"See, Candy?" Casey said, with a wink, "All this and a floor show. What would you do without me?"

"Hmm, maybe actually go home at closing time?" Candace drawled, counting out her singles from the tip jar, "Clean up a lot less broken glass? Actually expect you two to pay your tab once in a while?"

"Naww, I think you'd be bored to tears, Candy Cane," Jones flirted shamelessly.

"Don't call me that," she snapped, and slammed the till shut. She leaned over it with her back to Casey, and suddenly hung her head. A few stray strands of stringy blonde hair escaped from her ponytail.

Casey frowned.

"Hey – you okay, Candace?"

After a moment, Candy sighed, turned to face him, and crossing her arms over her chest, leaned back against the till, a sad smile on her face. The Purple Dragons had been harassing her a while back, and he and Raph had put a stop to it. Unfortunately it meant Raph getting seen. But at least now they had a place to go drinking after they got off patrol in the wee hours. The fact that he'd been porking her at the time hadn't exactly hurt matters either. Casey, that is – not Raph. S'far as Casey knew Raph hadn't been porking anyone, for fairly obvious, mutant reasons. Most chicks weren't as…open-minded as April.

"Lookit you," Candy drawled, "Mr. Responsible all of a sudden."

Casey squirmed uncomfortably, "Ah, come on, blondie. Don't start that shit with me now."

Candace shrugged and shook her head. "Look, I always knew you'd end up going back to that redhead, just…I didn't know she'd up and…domesticate ya."

She looked tired, and not just because it was nearing dawn. Her eyeliner feathered into the tiny wrinkles under her eyes, and her cheeks seemed thinner and more drawn than he remembered. It can't have been easy running a business as a single woman in New York. Didn't exactly leave much time for dating, and the kinda guys you met in her line of work weren't usually marriage material.

"_Guys like me_," Casey thought.

"You jealous, Candy Cane?" Casey drawled, waggling his eyebrows, "Cuz I gotta say, it looks good on you."

Candace smirked in spite of herself and rolled her eyes. "You're an asshole, Casey Jones."

"Hey," Casey murmured, more seriously, "We had fun together, huh? Good times?"

Candy smiled, and put her hand over his. It was warm and a bit damp from washing glasses. He could smell the glass cleaner that was a permanent fixture of her skin. It brought back sudden memories of those hands wandering other places, and he felt a bit nervous.

"Yeah," Candy smiled, "Yeah, good times. Look, don't mind me, I'm pushing forty, still single, and wondering when the stork is gonna swing by my little nest, that's all. That whole mess with you and them, and what you're doin' for 'em – honestly, I think it's kinda nice. Real nice, Jones. I didn't know you had it in you."

"I'm pretty sure you knew I had it in me, Candy Cane," Jones smirked, and she took her hand off his, to poke him in the shoulder playfully.

"Don't be vulgar," she smirked, "Ya shithead."

"Hey, maybe I should rent myself out, huh?" Casey teased.

"Pfft. '_Casey Jones, professional stud services._'" Candy laughed. She had a scratchy smoker's laugh. "Christ on a cracker. Well, you could sure use the cash."

"Any time you're ready, babe," Casey flirted, "You got my number. Hey, speaking of cash."

He started reaching for his wallet, but she waved him away.

"Naw. You know you guys don't pay here."

"Hey, ain't you heard?" Casey teased, "I'm a responsible-type adult, now."

Candy just shook her head, "It's only because of you two that I'm still in business. Besides, you're celebrating. I'll buy."

Casey smiled at her, briefly remembered lying next to her in her apartment upstairs, queen mattress on the floor, no frame, the neon light from the bar flashing on and off through the blinds, making dancing red stripes over her body while she smoked a cigarette.

"You're kinda pretty, you know?" he said, before thinking.

"Easy there," Candace rolled her eyes, "You'll pull a muscle."

"Hey, I'm just sayin' – it'll happen for ya, Candy. The right one, he's out there."

"Hrm," Candy offered, noncommittally. She obviously didn't believe him, and also obviously didn't wanna talk about it anymore.

Casey felt something wet on his shoulder, and looked over to realize Raph was drooling on him, probably passed out. Casey sighed.

"It's almost dawn. I better get handsome here to a couch."

Candy smirked and jutted her chin Raph's way.

"Good luck with that."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Leo surveyed the lair. It was so much quieter than he was used to, even for this hour of night. He padded silently to Master Splinter's room, years of habit making his motions stealthy even when there was no particular need.

Splinter lay with his hands folded neatly on his chest, the adjustable bed holding him halfway up – it made it easier for him to breathe at night. The oxygen tank hissed softly. Donnie had designed a special cannula to fit Splinter's rat-like snout and stay in place over night. Leo checked to make sure it was well adjusted, and leaned in close to watch the reassuring rise and fall of his furry chest. Lightly, he placed a hand over Splinter's folded claws.

A quiet rumble started deep in Splinter's chest, and slowly he opened his eyes.

"Miwa?" he murmured.

Leo's heart tugged in chest. It had been years since any of them had seen Karai. He'd written to her in Japan when Splinter had started to get sick, but…well, she'd made her choice. She'd sent a polite, formally worded reply, hand-brushed, praying for his return to good health, and wishing them all well. It hung on the wall now, next to Splinter's bed. He imagined it was too painful for her, that she preferred to forge her own life instead of always being haunted by ghosts from her father's war…both of her fathers' war. He wondered, not for the first or the last time, if she was seeing anyone, if she'd found the freedom and peace she was seeking. He thought back to the last time he'd seen her, the day she'd told him she was leaving…standing there on the rooftop, her silky black hair blowing around her face, slipping through his fingers, the almost blue sheen of it in the moonlight…

"Ah," Splinter murmured, now fully awake, "Raphael."

Leo smiled, and turned on the bedside lava lamp, purloined from Mikey's room for its soft light. The room was bathed in an orange glow.

"Leonardo, sensei."

Splinter leaned forward and squinted.

"Ah, so it is. I'm sorry, my son. My eyes…"

"I know," Leo said, softly, patting Splinter's hand, "It's okay."

"Where is Raphael?" 

Leo frowned. He had guessed Raph hadn't made it home tonight. He was glad he decided to check in before going to bed. But at the same time, seeing Splinter like this…he had a feeling he understood why Raph had been patrolling and partying a bit too hard, lately. He made up his mind to talk to him about it, though he wasn't sure how much good it would do. Talking to Raph never seemed to do much good. Maybe he'd ask Michaelangelo to do it. Raph didn't always take him seriously, but at least he'd let Mikey talk, and maybe the idea would take root.

"Did you take your medicine?" Leo evaded.

"Hrm," Splinter grunted, noncommittally. Leo knew he had no idea. He sighed, and checked the marble notebook next to Splinter's bed, perched haphazardly on top of a small sea of orange pill bottles. Yep – Raph had meticulously written everything down. Leo's heart softened a bit towards his brother. He was trying.

"You didn't use your puffer before bed…do you need it now? Or do you want to wait until morning?"

Splinter shook his head.

"Morning, then. Did you eat?"

Splinter shook his head again. "I was not hungry."

"_Oto-san_," Leo said sternly, closing the marble notebook, "You have to eat. Even when you don't feel like it. You're not supposed to take this stuff on an empty stomach."

Splinter coughed delicately, and leaned back into his pillows again, closing his eyes. Leo rolled his eyes. His father was no fool, and had come to realize a well-timed coughing fit was a good conversation stopper.

"Gabriela is leaving her husband."

"Really?" Leo smiled, playing along with the misdirection, "Even though she'll be cut out of the will?"

"Mm. For Ronaldo, the pool boy. He doesn't know that she lied about the baby."

"Was he the one that had amnesia?" Leo squinted, trying to remember.

"No," Splinter chided, "You are thinking of General Hospital."

"Ah," Leo smiled, softly, "I'm going to bring you some toast and an Ensure."

Splinter wrinkled his nose in disgust.

"I know. But it's good for you. Chocolate or vanilla?"

"Tea," Splinter said, weakly.

"Ensure, then tea," Leo replied firmly, "It'll wash the taste away. A ninja takes care of his body."

There was a low rumble in Splinter's chest. Leo held his breath, worried this might be an actual coughing fit, but instead, a soft laugh burbled its way to the surface.

"I am not…ninja anymore," Splinter smiled, "I am just…an old rat."

Leo smiled. He was tempted to tell Splinter he was going to be a grandfather, knew how happy it would make him, but figured Donnie would want to – it was only fair. He leaned down, and kissed his father on the head.

"You're still our sensei."

"Vanilla," Splinter murmured, in defeat.

Leo nodded, and stood to go, and Splinter grabbed his wrist.

"Thank you, Raphael," he murmured, "You are a good boy."

Leo paused.

"Love you, Dad," he said, swallowing hard, and went to go make some toast.


	3. Chapter 3

"Woah! You sure?! F'realsies?!" Mikey's eyes were glittering covetously at the tin-foiled casserole dish he held in his hands.

"Of course, Mikey," April smiled, "Maybe Splinter will like it, too."

"Pfft…only if I _share_."

"Only you could eat leftover eggplant parm on a waffle and call it breakfast," Donnie said, shaking his head.

"It's not breakfast – it's _brunch_, dude," Michaelangelo said, his face a mask of seriousness, "It's like the Battle Royale of foods – no rules, no mercy. Besides, _April_ cooked it! _Carpe Eggplant_, bro." He leaned in conspiratorially, "That means, '_seize the eggplant_.'"

"Say 'hi' to your brothers for me," April said quickly, before Donatello could give them the Latin word for eggplant. She gave Mikey a peck on the cheek, "Well – hi to Leo, I guess. I've seen plenty of _Raph_ today."

"Yeah, sorry about that," Mikey said, shuffling his feet awkwardly like he always did when he was embarrassed. "He totally said he was gonna go straight home, but…I guess he kinda…didn't?" 

April pinched the bridge of her nose. "No, he definitely did _not_. In fact, he's probably still passed out on Casey's couch."

There was an awkward silence. While they all knew where April was last night, it was the first time she'd said anything openly to confirm it. She'd never wanted all this all to come to light at once, the way it had, and she felt another slight surge of annoyance at her husband's total inability to keep a secret. Then again, she probably should have come to expect it by now – it was hard enough to keep secrets in a family of brothers as close-knit as the turtles, let alone four _ninja _brothers. It really wasn't Donnie's fault – it was kind of incredible they'd kept it quiet _this_ long.

She worried fleetingly that Michaelangelo would be uncomfortable around her…she and Mikey had always had such a warm, easy relationship…she hated the idea of him feeling awkward around her.

"Or worse, ashamed of me," she thought miserably, "Or what if he's angry, what if he feels like I'm betraying Donnie?"

"_Aren't you?"_ a nasty voice inside her whispered. She shuddered involuntarily.

"Sorry, April," Mikey said, blushing a bit, "I guess I shoulda walked him home."

"Oh Mikey, it's not your fault," April soothed, "You're not Raphael's keeper…Besides, if you had, then you wouldn't have gotten to stay over, and I'm glad you and Donnie got to spend some quality time together."

Mikey's face brightened up. "B-Team Sleepover, for the win!"

Donnie grinned. "Anytime you're up for it, bro."

"You know, since it came up," April said, leaning on the counter, "Does it seem lately like Raph is…okay?"

"Sure," Mikey said, with false cheerfulness, "Why wouldn't he be?"

"Well, he's been…y'know…" 

"Binge drinking?" Donnie supplied, bluntly.

Mikey shook his head, "Nah, you know how Raph is, he's just blowing off steam. He's got it under control."

Donnie shook his head disapprovingly. "Casey says he's been patrolling hard, too. Taking longer shifts than he needs to, increasing his range – he's even stretched halfway into Jersey, just looking for trouble, picking fights..."

"Well, he can't help the bad guys bein' bad guys," Mikey said defensively.

Mikey had always looked up to his tough, "cool" older brother, and April supposed it was natural he'd want to spring to defend him. Still, she had a feeling his "glass-half-full" mentality might be blinding him to the issue, here. Mikey placed the casserole back down on the breakfast bar with a dull clunk, leaving temporarily forgotten.

"Lookin' for trouble is what you're supposed to do on patrol, right?" he said, crossing his arms.

"Mikey, we've covered this neighborhood for over a decade," Donnie countered patiently, "The Foot's been virtually defunct in the U.S. for years, now. We've built a pretty impressive rep. Most of the time, all we have to do is show ourselves, and these petty criminals drop whatever they're doing and beat a hasty retreat. But Raph, he'll go after them and press the issue – it's not enough to stop crime, he's determined to get his fistfight in, even when it's not necessary. Even Casey's worried."

"Really? He said that?" Mikey shifted uncomfortably. April couldn't help but notice his eyes dart to her and then away again when Donnie mentioned Casey's name.

Donnie nodded, "He mentioned it, yeah." 

"And please don't take this the wrong way," April added, "but you guys aren't cops. Don't get me wrong, you've all saved the world on multiple occasions –

"You have, too!" Donnie interjected. April gave him a sidelong glance.

"Well, you helped," he amended, sheepishly.

"Thanks, sweetie," April continued, "The only point I'm making is this: Aliens, robots, mutants, ninjas…or mutant-robot…ninja-aliens, that type of thing? Yes, by all means, let's go to work. But petty criminals like the Purple Dragons? At some point we need to start relying on the criminal justice system to do its job here, or we're just forever slapping band aids on an open wound."

She wrapped an arm around Donnie's shell protectively. "Besides, when are you entitled to live your own lives? It's not on you four to eradicate crime from the world forever…it's Sisyphean."

"Who you callin' a sissy?" Mikey scowled.

Donnie sighed, "Sisyphus is a Greek myth about –"

"_Dude,"_ Michaelangelo said with a sidelong glance, "_Joking._ Come on, I'm not a _total _idiot. I mean, forty percent idiot, tops."

Donnie chuckled sheepishly, "Okay, okay. But April's got a point: I still think we're doing good work, and I'm glad to be doing it," He made eye contact with April. "But I'm also really glad to have a life to come home to. Raph…he doesn't know how to put it away at the end of the night."

"It's not just that," April said, shaking her head, "It's…"

She sighed, and shook her head. "I know this is a sensitive subject," she continued, "But…it's Splinter. I'm sure that's part of it."

Mikey shifted uncomfortably. "Splinter's fine. He just has to take it easy for a while. That cold really knocked him out." 

Donatello reached out and put a sympathetic hand over his.

"That 'cold' was _pneumonia_, Mikey," he said, gently, "And at Splinter's age, we're lucky to still have him. The truth is, we're all getting older, and Splinter being…well, not really being what he used to – it's hitting Raph kind of hard."

"Someone needs to talk to him," April said, absentmindedly fiddling with an old nick in Donnie's shell.

"_Not it_," Mikey and Donnie said simultaneously.

All three sighed at the same time.

"I'm just worried about him," April admitted, and paused as she recalled his late-night, drunken visit. "I kind of want to kick his ass," she added, "But…I'm still worried about him."

"Dudette – welcome to our world," Mikey nodded sagely.

"Business as usual, as far as Raph is concerned," Donnie quipped.

They stood in contemplative silence for a minute.

"Well," Mikey said, brightening up considerably, "He did seem really happy about…y'know…stuff."

"Stuff?" Donatello smirked.

"Dude – the B-A-B-I-E? Duh. He and Leo even _hugged._" He paused a moment. "It was weird." 

So…Mikey was really okay with everything, then? Just like that? It felt like hope and worry were wrestling with the butterflies in April's stomach.

"It is…_good_ news, right?" she asked, nerves making her stumble over her words, "We should have told you ages ago, only, I know it's a lot to take in, and I just didn't want you to think that I'm – I was just afraid you would all think I was a terrible person, or – "

"Pause it, rewind," Mikey interrupted. He spread his hands wide. "Hug it out."

With a giddy sigh of relief, April rushed forward, and enjoyed being squeezed in one of Mikey's signature bear hugs.

"Girl, quit trippin'."

April giggled, and Mikey nuzzled her hair affectionately. "You're family, April. I couldn't think you were terrible even if you_ were _terrible," he whispered. 

April felt a rogue tear slip past her defenses, and she smiled, rubbing it away on Mikey's plastron.

"Wait, but you're _not_ though," he added, anxiously releasing her, "Terrible, I mean. I don't know if I made that clear: You're _not _terrible. Please don't cry?"

April laughed. "I'm just relieved, Mikey. I'm really glad we're cool."

"If you two are cool, I'm cool. That all's between you dudes. Besides, how crazy is it that you're gonna be _parents_? Crazy _awesome!_ Plus now I get to be the funnest, bestest uncle ever!" 

"Well, let's wait and see if we have any good news, first," Donnie smiled, "We won't know for a little while yet."

"How long is a '_little_ while,' though?" Mikey said, bobbing up and down on the tips of his toes, "Tomorrow?"

"Approximately twelve days, to be specific, though twenty-one would certainly provide the most definitive results, and it's probably logical to wait until the first trimester has concluded before –"

"Boo. I hate waiting," Mikey pouted.

April beamed, feeling lighter than air. All her worries had been for nothing. She should have known Mikey would always support her, and his brother, no matter what – they were all one team – one family.

A few minutes later, Mikey was waving from the fire escape, casserole balanced on his knees, and then, with a quick jump, he'd vanished.

"So," Donnie said sternly, and April winced at his tone of voice, "You think you're a 'terrible person?'"


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Yep – this is the chappie that bumps it right up to MA. I have literally _never _written smutty fanfic before, and I'm really conflicted about uploading. Please be gentle. -_-; And if you are under eighteen WTF STOP READING. Geez. Go do your homework. i

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"So," Donnie said sternly, and April winced at his tone of voice, "You think you're a 'terrible person?'"

"Nooooo," April hedged, running her fingers through her hair as she turned away from the window to face him, "I…was afraid that your _brothers_ would think I was a terrible person." She grinned unconvincingly.

"Uh-huh." Donnie narrowed his eyes. Dang. Not buying it.

"I guess, having it all come to light like this," April admitted hesitantly, "It's made me see it with fresh eyes, from their perspective. And it made me realize just how brave you are - and how patient…And…it makes me feel really selfish."

She wrapped her arms around Donnie's neck, and breathed in his scent. When April was a kid at the farmhouse, she'd sometimes go fishing in the creek, though it was really too small to catch much. Donnie always smelled very faintly of that creek – like water, and moss, and things living and green and growing. It was a smell she'd come to associate with home, with safety, with long, lazy afternoons of peace.

His hands, hands big enough and deadly enough to break her spine like a twig, went to her hips and rested there lightly, like they'd always been there, like they belonged there. April felt her heart twist at just how _gentle_ he could be. Even the patient way he listened, allowing her to unburden herself, not interrupting, or trying to fix it right away – always allowing, always permitting her to be herself in the moment.

"You're so incredible. And I hate putting you through this. It should be enough…we have a beautiful life together, and it should be _enough_ for me."

"April," Donnie soothed, "We've been over this. I just –

"Want me to be happy, I know," April sighed, "But what about _your_ happiness, Donatello? I worry that this is hurting you, that _I'm_ hurting you. Can you honestly tell me it never bothers you? Y'know, when…I'm away?"

She gulped, and forced herself to be more accurate, more honest, more like Donnie: "When I'm with him?"

She looked up shyly, and saw that Donnie had a faraway look, seriously considering her question.

"No, I can't," he said, and April felt crestfallen at his honest response. Guilt settled in the pit of her stomach like a lead balloon.

"Sometimes it _is_ really difficult. Of course there are times I feel jealous, or lonely…that's why having my brothers around helps. Mostly I wish I could just be everything that you need. But that doesn't matter."

"Yes it _does_, Donnie!" April insisted, cupping his face in her hands, "That's what I keep trying to say to you, _you_ matter to me! And I don't want to keep hurting you."

She turned away from him and hugged herself, willing herself to get the words out. She had to be brave - for Donnie's sake.

"You've given me so much," she said, giving voice to the old fear, "Everything, really, and it seems I've got nothing to give back to you except trouble and heartache. How can you still love someone like that? How can you still want to be with me? Maybe…loving each other isn't enough. Maybe I'm just _wrong _for you."

She heard Donnie sigh in exasperation behind her.

"Okay. Childbirth."

April blinked, and turned to face him again. "Come again?"

"Giving birth. It hurts, right?"

April paused.

"Y-yes?"

"In fact, well, not to scare you," Donnie amended nervously, "But it's apparently one of the worst pains there is. So I've heard, at least. Not that I'll ever experience it firsthand, I mean, being male, obviously, and technically, a reptile. Also pain is a totally subjective experience, and given that there's no quantifiable, standardized system of measurement, it's hard to compare with any accuracy - "

"Donnie."

"Right, sorry. So uh, childbirth – it hurts. A lot. So why bother? Why put yourself through it?"

"Because," April frowned, "If we want a family, that's…just the price you pay. You do it for love."

She met Donnie's warm, hazel eyes, beaming at her adoringly. She'd been catching glimpses of this expression since they were kids – furtive glances, quickly hidden, uncomfortably dismissed as a harmless crush. But seeing it now, matured, unafraid, tempered and strengthened by all they'd been through – it was like trying to stare into the sun.

"Some things…the things that are truly important – they're worth a little pain," he said, stroking her cheek with his thumb.

April sighed, and melted into his arms. She was still convinced that Donnie was getting the raw end of the deal. She couldn't ever deserve someone so selfless. He turned her gently and began working his fingers through the knots she wasn't even aware she had in her shoulders.

"You had your say," he said, firmly, "Now let me have mine. Do you really think this is news to me? That I've _never_ had some of the same fears that you have? You worry you're wrong for me – April, I'm a six foot mutated _turtle_. How could I possibly be _right_ for _you_? I'm not even human. No, let me finish," he said, stymieing her indignant scoff.

Shaking her head, she relaxed into his arms again and tried to do for him what he did so often for her – just listen, and let him be himself.

"I can't give you the things that Casey can…I can't give you a child, couldn't give you a fancy wedding - I can't even take you out for dinner, April. As much as I've always loved you, I knew you deserved better than hiding in a sewer forever. As much as it drove me crazy to see you with Casey, there was a part of me that felt _relieved _– relieved that even if _I_ was miserable, _you_ could at least have a normal life. You say I've given you everything – April, what about what you've given _up_ for me? Do you think a woman comes along every day who says 'Sure, I'll spend the rest of my life with a mutant turtle. Which one? Gosh, I dunno, how about the gap-toothed nerd with no social skills, might as well make it a challenge, right?' Shush. Still my turn."

April felt like if she didn't jump in to correct him, she'd burst, but she took a deep breath, and bided her time.

"I'm a rational person, April. And rationally, I knew that none of us really ever had a shot at this life, the one that you and I have here. It's hard enough to make it work when_ nobody_ is a mutant. And yet, every day I wake up, and roll over, and there you are - my very own, completely improbable, honest-to-God miracle, complete with freckles. And it forces me to admit that sometimes, despite all logic, in defiance of all reason and probability, incredible things can just _happen,_ and they don't have to make sense – they just _are_."

His fingertips wandered down to her belly and pressed gently.

"And on top of all this – you're giving me the chance to be a father, and then you worry that you have nothing to give? Sweetie, I'm trying really hard not to be condescending here, but I really don't think you get what that means to me…what that means to someone _like_ me."

He chuckled lightly.

"The truth is, you _are_ wrong for me, April. But not for the reasons you think. On paper, nothing about us should work. But you come into my life, deliver one improbable miracle after another and then stand here and _apologize_ for it, and explain to me that I'd be better off without you?"

He shook his head slowly.

"April, if you left me tomorrow – I'd be devastated, but – I'd understand. The fact that you ever signed up for this," he gestured vaguely to his entire self, "in the first place is…well, it's incredible. And I don't just mean 'amazing,' I mean, _literally _strains credulity. I wouldn't blame you if you…if you changed your mind. I'd _still _just be grateful to know you, to have had even a chance at a life like ours."

Silence stretched out between them, as April leaned back against Donnie's chest, his plastron firm and cool between her shoulder blades.

"All done?" she asked, finally.

"Um. Yes?"

"Okay. My turn again."

She turned and placed her hands on either side of Donnie's face.

"Donatello – I will _never_ leave you."

Donnie looked away automatically, and she knew he was mentally replaying one of the rockier breakups from their tumultuous past. She firmly brought his gaze back to hers.

"Hey. Those 'will they, won't they' days? They're done. I will _never_. Leave you. Not ever. As long as you still want me, you've still got me. _Capisce, kame-otto-chan_?"ii

Donnie grinned sheepishly. "_Hai, tsuma-pyon."iii_

"You think because you're a mutant, you're not human…Donnie, you're not _just_ human, you're the _most_ human...You're _my_ human."

She vaguely remembered having a similar conversation with him years ago, but couldn't place it. She saw that same scared look in his eye now…that fear so deep-seated it had become resignation, an assumption, the belief that he really was unworthy, really didn't "count," didn't "matter," didn't have the right to expect real love…

"But…I'm not," he murmured apologetically, "Human, I mean. I get what you're trying to say, but it's important to be accur – "

She would show him. She would prove it to him.

She crushed her mouth to his, suddenly, urgently. As always, his lips were cool and smooth, but soft. She could feel his muscles stiffen in surprise, and then melt into her, as he began to kiss her back timidly.

"Nope," she thought to herself, "None of that weak tea, sir."

She climbed into his lap and moaned longingly into his mouth, swiping her tongue against his lips, begging him, as always, for more, for harder, urging him with her body. He was always so polite, always so patient, afraid of his strength, afraid of his other-ness, afraid of frightening or hurting her.

Nope. Not having it. Not today.

She paused to gasp for air, dragged her nails lightly along his carapace – they made pleasant, somewhat musical clicking sound against the ridges of his scutes, triggering little tingles up and down the back of her neck. She used her fingertips on the more sensitive skin on his shoulders, and smiled to feel the goosebumps there, switching back to her nails for the tougher surface of his bridge, at his ribs. He groaned in appreciation, pulling her into another, deeper, more desperate kiss, and April grinned into his mouth.

"Bed?" he panted, urgently.

"Floor," April growled, sliding off of his lap, and pulling him off the barstool, down to the linoleum.

"Oo," he blushed, "Um, are you sure you'll be comf – "

She stopped his mouth, pulling him down to cover her body with his. 

"So like, how do you even _do_ it?"

She was a junior in college, home for Thanksgiving. The family had gathered at the O'Neil's farmhouse, as usual, for dinner…Michaelangelo and her Dad were busy in the kitchen, and the other boys were explaining the intricacies of American football to Splinter, who was politely feigning interest. But she and Donnie were on-again, which meant she and Casey were off-again, and she couldn't stand the tense, stony silence of them ignoring each other against the backdrop of cheerful family chatter. She'd finally excused herself, saying she wanted a walk before dinner, and had come to sit in the tire swing by the oak tree.

She'd heard the leaves crunching as he stormed up to her, but had hoped beyond hope that he'd just announce that dinner was ready and stalk off again. She spun herself around slowly, and glowered at Casey standing there with his arms crossed.

"Can't you take a hint?" she snapped.

"Free country," Casey said, jutting his jaw out defensively, "Maybe I just felt like going for a walk, too."

"Uh-huh. Sure. Just - walk somewhere else, okay?"

"Seriously, how the hell does that even _work_?" Casey badgered, the belligerent gleam in his eye showing he was looking for a fight.

"Excuse me, but it _works_ just fine, and I don't owe you any kind of explanation, Casey Jones," April spat, aware that clambering awkwardly out of the tire made her slightly less imposing. "Stop being disgusting just because you're jealous."

"Jealous? Oh right," Casey snarked, "I'm so jealous of Mr. Barbie Crotch."

April blinked. "What are you _talking_ about?"

"Come on, April, they walk around naked all day," Casey said, rolling his eyes, "There's not much _going on_ down there. Pfft. If that's what you're into, no wonder we broke up."

April shook her head in disbelief.

"First of all – and this may shock you, so brace yourself – there's more to sex than your swinging cod, Casey Jones, but I guess I really shouldn't expect you to challenge your phallocentric heteronormativism, should I?"

"Oh, I get it," Casey drawled, "You just throw big words at each other, that what gets you off? Here ya go: sesquicentennial. That doin' anything for ya?"

"Second of all," April continued, glaring, "We broke up because you're clearly a Neanderthal. And third – there is definitely something '_going on down there_,' as you so charmingly put it."

She allowed herself a small smirk, as Casey's sneer faded into a twisted look of horrified discomfort.

He blinked awkwardly, "Wait, f'real? Seriously, how the hell does that even…Where do they…"

April felt herself blushing scarlet.

"It's none of your damn _business_, Casey," she snapped, "Google it if you're so curious. Or God forbid, open a book."

"Pfft," He shook his head, some of his bravado returning as he reassured himself, "You're _so_ bluffing. Bet that's all you two do, is sit around reading all night."

"You should try it, sometime. Maybe if you had, _you'd_ be in school right now," April snarled, heat rising to her cheeks.

Casey had inadvertently hit a sore spot…she and Donnie had been officially "on-again," for weeks now, and he had finally acquiesced to copping a feel (over the shirt, and had immediately apologized. Ring a ding ding.) She knew his family was all about honor, respect, self-discipline, blah de blah…mostly, she knew he was afraid of scaring her off, and she really wanted to respect him and go at his pace – but if she didn't get some action soon, she felt like she was going to explode, and lately, she found herself just as moody and volatile as Casey.

Casey's expression darkened ominously. April knew she was pushing his buttons with that school crack, but Casey had pissed her off, like he always did. If he was so eager for a fight, she'd be happy to supply one.

"Yeah, well, I guess we all can't be super-geniuses like you two, can we? At least I _could_ go to college, if I _felt_ like it. What's Donnie majoring in again? Oh right, '_Nothing_,' with a concentration in '_hiding in the sewer_.'"

"Walk away," April spat through clenched teeth, and realized she'd balled up her fists and assumed a fighting stance automatically, without realizing it, "Now. Turn around."

Casey's eyebrows lifted. "What're you gonna do Red, beat me up?"

"You don't get to – you can't even – " she found herself so furious, she was tongue-tied and sputtering.

"Come on, _genius_," he taunted, "You gonna spit it out, or just hit me like a _Neanderthal_?"

"Don't you _dare_," April roared, and she pushed him, hard, at his shoulders, "You have _no_ idea how hard it is for him. He could have gone anywhere, he wanted to, he _should _have, he – "

"Yeah, but he _can't_, can he?" Casey snarled, finally getting the fight he was after, "Can't go to college, couldn't take you to prom, and I'm bettin' - "

He took a step closer to April, and despite the anger seething in her gut, April felt her heart thud as Casey closed the distance between them, her mind involuntarily remembering the last time they'd been together, remembering the last time she'd snuck him into her dorm room, one fist in her hair, one on the headboard –

"I'm bettin' he can't do for you what I can do for you," he drawled.

"What's that?" April snapped, "Irritate me until I'm screaming and pulling my hair out?"

"Oh, I think we've already established I can make you scream. As for the hair pulling thing…" he reached out and tried to touch her hair, but she smacked his hand away fiercely.

"Classy, Jones. God, you know Donnie may be a turtle but at least he's not a _pig_." 

"Ahem."

April's heart flooded with ice-water, and she craned her neck around Casey's shoulder to see Donatello standing there, gripping one arm, with his lips in a grim line and a blush creeping over his face.

"You guys are being…a bit louder than you realize," he said, evenly.

April felt a hot wave of shame cover her face, and her heart plummeted down into her stomach as she glanced back at the farmhouse and mentally calculated the distance to the kitchen window, which, she just noted with despair, was ajar, a pie cooling on the sill…she realized, with sinking horror, that both Michaelangelo and her _father _were in the kitchen.

"How much did, uh…"

"Well, Leo turned the volume all the way up once Casey landed on 'Mr. Barbie Crotch…'"

April covered her face with the palm of her hand, and even Casey had the good grace to look embarrassed.

"Dinner's almost ready," Donatello said, "You should probably come in."

Casey eyed the farmhouse apprehensively. Donatello just stood there and waited, looking down at the ground. Finally he turned and started walking back to the house alone. Casey turned to April, making eye contact sadly. She wanted to slap him, wanted to just hate him, but the genuine remorse in his expression made the whole thing so much worse.

"Maybe I should just go."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"_Aah!_"

April threw her head back and almost cracked it on the kitchen floor, as Donnie continued swirling his thumb over her clitoris, his middle digit gesturing an intimate "come hither" deep inside of her. "Aah! Don't stop!"

He planted a soft kiss on her ribs, his other hand reaching up to stroke her face. She turned and took his thumb into her mouth, swirling her tongue across it and nibbling gently. Her belly tensed with deep tremors, and she bit into the fleshy pad of his digit a wee bit harder than she'd planned. He hissed softly through his teeth, and sped up his efforts slightly.

"Gaah!" April gasped, her spine arching away from the cold floor. She buried her face in the crook of her elbow helplessly, "_Fuck!_"

"Such language," Donnie purred, nuzzling a breast and swiping a rough tongue over her nipple. It was enough to send her tumbling over the edge again, and she cried out, one hand over her eyes, the other gripping Donatello's shell like she might fall off the edge of the world unless she hung on tight. Indeed, it felt like the ground was shifting beneath her, as wave after dizzy wave of orgasm ripped through her helpless body, and with a bit of embarrassment, she felt a slick, hot spill of wetness seeping over Donnie's hand. She felt, rather than saw Donatello grinning smugly against her breast.

"Three," he murmured, "Good one, hon." He began kissing a trail down her ribs, towards her bellybutton, towards –

"Four?" he murmured against her mons, and his broad tongue teased –

"No, stop," April panted, "I can't. Dying. Uncle!" She tapped her palm against the kitchen floor.

He instantly stopped moving, though April felt herself continue to clench around his hand with delicious aftershocks, as she struggled to control her breathing, sweat from her back slippery against the linoleum.

"Guh," she panted.

"Happy?" Donnie murmured warmly, resting his head on her hipbone. She removed her arm from her eyes and found his beaming up at her adoringly.

"Happy," she grinned, and started giggling. It went from her toes and thrummed all the way to the top of her head, raising little goose bumps on her skin. He chuckled softly as well, and climbed his way back up her body. Slowly, ever so gently, he slid his finger out from her, and she exhaled, shuddering. She felt the slick, impossible length of him settle against her hip and she leaned into it as his lips found her ear. His breath hitched in his throat.

"God," he muttered into her neck, "I always forget how _warm_ you are."

"Mmm," she purred, "Your turn."

i I usually avoid anything this explicit, because I feel it's usually not necessary to the story, excludes readers who might otherwise enjoy it, and takes it too far away from the character of the source material. In this case, however, I really felt it _was _important and necessary to the character development. Donnie and April's marriage, in this canon, is not just a sexless, airless marriage of convenience, not only a deep friendship – it's a real marriage. She really does think of him as a partner, and more importantly, a person. And hey, they're thirty and married, so it'd be weird if sex didn't figure into their lives, and given the unique challenges they face in that regard, weird not to mention it. It figures the first smut I'd ever write would involve a mutated turtle. I googled turtle junk, you guys. Fuck it, we're all going to hell XD ( tetrapod-zoology/2012/06/08/terrifying-sex-organs-of-male-turtles/)

ii "Get it, turtle-hubby?" She's mixing Italian and Japanese.

iii "Yes, wifey." I used google translate and this source for my honorifics: (h /UsefulNotes/JapaneseHonorifics?from= )


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: More smut ahead. 18+ only, please. Also, this is probably the last smutty chapter you'll get for a while…because there's an actual plot forthcoming. Sorry for the slow update, but I got a plot bunny (The Ice Planet Hoth) and I started another which began as a drabble and is becoming the story that ate Tokyo, but both are K+ and more in keeping with current canon, so it made a nice change. Anywho. Here you go. (GO AWAY, KIDS.)

"Your turn."

She turned on her side to face him and slid her hand down his plastron. He inhaled sharply, and a groan rumbled deep in his chest, as she found what she was looking for, and wrapped her hand around him, fingers just barely able to meet.

"Hng!" his voice caught, stuck in his throat, as he involuntarily began to grind his hips into her grip. He wrapped one arm around her waist, drawing her firmly to him, and she rested her head on his other bicep, feeling the length of him settle against her belly.

She slid her hand north and gently teased her fingers along the shape of his glans, at once, so foreign, so clearly 'other,' yet by now, as familiar to her as her own body. He whimpered softly, and she smiled, remembering the first time she'd heard that sound.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

April perched on the metal rolling-chair in her dorm room, leaning intently into the monitor. She probably should have been studying for her upcoming finals before Christmas break, but instead she was….well, she was doing _this._

She squinted dubiously at the diagram on the monitor, her finger slowly scrolling with the track wheel, her heart sinking a bit. No, this was impossible. She had no idea what she was thinking.

"Well, he does look more human than turtle," she rationalized desperately, "Maybe?..." 

_Dude has a shell, April. Just how optimistic are we, here?  
><em>  
>She clicked on a different link, which opened to a hi-res close-up, and her eyes flew wide open.<p>

_HELLO. Yikes.  
><em>  
>Okay, odds were rapidly pointing to hopeless. How could she even begin to tell Donnie that they –<p>

"Hey April. Whatcha – "

"GAH!" 

"GAAH!"

"AAAAH!"

April jumped out of her seat, and it made a metallic creak as it spun around. Donnie replied by leaping half the length of her dorm room into a perfect crouch, back towards the open window.

"KNOCK! KNOCK, YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO KNOCK!"  
>"SORRY I'M SORRY MY FAULT I'M SORRY"<p>

She frantically turned back to the computer, trying to close the open windows and it seemed like hiding behind each one was an even more incriminating image than the last, and finally in a blind panic, she turned off the power strip for the entire computer, ran to the door, and locked it in case anyone decided to see what all the yelling was about. She leaned her head into the door, and groaned, building her courage.

Finally, she took a deep breath, and turned back to the window. Donnie was crouched precariously on the snowy ledge outside, his eyes wide as saucers. He had added a poncho and a scarf to ward against the cold.

He raised one finger and tapped lightly on the window pane three times.

April face palmed again, and gestured hopelessly for him to enter.

For a while he just stood there and she stared at the floor, her face burning, wishing she were invisible. Then she heard a soft "snrk."

Horrified, she looked up and saw Donnie staring at her intensely, his lips in a tight grimace. Then, suddenly, he made the tiny snorting noise again, and she realized –

"Are you…_laughing_ at me?" she asked, indignantly.

"That depends," Donatello said, very carefully, his brow knit in concentration, "Were you looking at…turtle…porn?"

There was a split second where they held eye contact, and then he couldn't help it anymore. The corners of his mouth twitched, and April found herself grinning even as her face got all hot, and then they were both laughing helplessly until it _hurt_, April clutching her aching stomach.

"It's…_diagrams_," she choked through giggles, "From v-veterinary – "

"_Turtle porn_!" Don wheezed, "What did you Google?! _'Barely legal reptiles?' 'Horny Cryptodira?_"

_"Stop!"_ April begged, tears streaming down her cheeks, "I'm gonna _pee!_"

"_Hot single Chelodinae in your area are waiting to chat with you!_"

April was doubled over in silent laughter. She couldn't even breathe.

"I have three brothers, April. And the computer is in _my_ room, okay? So until tonight, I _really_ thought I had seen every conceivable 'I just got caught looking at porn' face. But _you! _You – hahaha! – you just…"

He tried to imitate her expression, but the instant he thought to do it, it only made him laugh so hard he started coughing helplessly, and sank down onto the edge of her bed.

"Oh God, don't die," April choked out, and wiped her streaming eyes as she went to thump him on the shell. While she was up, she closed the window on the frosty night, and then plunked next to him on the edge of her bed. He was shrugging out of his outerwear now that he was in the warmth.

"N-not dying," Donatello coughed, "Still, laughing yourself to death…not a bad way to go."

"Better than dying of shame," April said, knowing her face was still scarlet. Damned Irish complexion.

Donnie gave her a sidelong glance.

"I don't suppose, as a Communications major with a concentration in Journalism," he said with a dry, superior tone, "that you are writing a searing exposé on turtle di-hicks." He couldn't even get through it with a straight face.

April smacked him on the shoulder, and could tell he barely felt it.

"You know what I was doing," she muttered quietly, and looked away, embarrassed again.

There was an awkward silence.

"Um…" Donatello started, more quietly.

April looked up, and saw with a sinking feeling in her heart that Donnie was definitely not laughing anymore.

"I'm sorry for teasing," he said, smiling shyly, staring at the throw rug by her bed and digging his toes around in the pile, "You should know, I won't ever – I'd never ask you to…_do_ anything. Like, with me. Like that. I mean, I understand."

April felt her heart break a little.

"But…what if I want to?" she asked, shyly.

Donnie gave her an exasperated side-long glance.

"What?" April asked, feeling indignant, "You're my boyfriend, right? Why shouldn't we?"

"You know why," Donnie said, jerking his head towards the now-dark and silent computer, "I'm…we're different."

"Well," April said, her face heating all over again (Geez, was there any blood left for the _rest _of her?) "_How_ different? You never let me – "

"I should go," Donnie said, standing up suddenly. April grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him back down to the bed.

"We have to deal with it," she said, firmly.

"Tonight?" Donnie asked, anxiously, making eye contact. His face was a picture of abject fear and misery.

"Why _not_ tonight? If not now, then when? This is getting ridiculous, Donnie, we can't go _on_ like this."

"Yes we can!" he pleaded frantically, "We can _totally_ go on like this! I am _Team_ 'Go On Like This.'"

"Donnie…"

"Honest. I'm cool with it."

"I'm not," April said, firmly. "I'm _not_ cool with it, Donnie."

There was a pause where they stared each other down.

"So you're…_dumping_ me?" Donnie asked, swallowing hard, "Because I won't…_put out?"_

April sighed in frustration, recalling Casey's taunting at Thanksgiving.

"NO, Donnie. But, at some point, things are…well…you're gonna have to…_ugh,_ are you _really_ going to make me say this out loud?" 

"I'm not a mind-reader, April," Donnie snapped, throwing his hands up in frustration, "What do you _want_ from me? I'm a _freak_, a _mistake, _it's not like I can just choose to – "

"We've been dating for months now," April interrupted, "And I haven't even _seen_ you naked!"

"I'm _always_ naked!" Donnie retorted, incredulously, "You saw me naked the day we _met!_ I'm naked _now_!" He held his scarf up as evidence.

"You _know_ what I mean!"

"Well, I haven't seen _you_ naked," he said petulantly, "You don't see me delivering _you_ any ultimatums."

April blinked.

"You know what? Fine."

She stood, reached over to the window, and drew the blinds.

"Um, what are you?..."

She stomped over to the door, unlocked it, and took off one of her socks. Opening the door a crack, she put her sock over the doorknob in case of visitors, closed the door again, locked it, and put the chain on for good measure.

She turned to face Donatello. He perched on the very edge of her bed. He seemed to have realized what was about to happen, and his face was a perfect picture of fright.

"I'm trying, Donatello," April said, firmly, refusing to look away, refusing to be the one to blink, "Lord knows, it's not easy, but I'm _here_, and I'm _trying_."

She unzipped her hoodie, and threw it on her computer chair.

"You've been chasing me from the time we're fifteen, and the minute I turn around and say 'okay, let's see where this goes,' I'm the one chasing _you_. I dig my way in, and I push my way through, and it's just wall after cute, charming wall with you. I don't know why I'm surprised that a guy with a shell would work so hard to protect himself. But I'm over it. Okay?"

She whipped her shirt up over her head, unbuttoned her jeans, and stepped on the cuff so she could step out of them.

"It's time. Time to stop running. Time to figure this out. No more chasing. No more hiding."

She reached behind to unhook her bra, and Donatello gasped, closed his eyes, and turned his head away.

"NO."

April stomped over to him, tossed her bra aside, stepped out of her panties, and kicked them aside. She awkwardly reached down and took off her one remaining sock, as an afterthought, and stood in front of him with her hands on her hips, stark naked. It was colder by the drafty window, even closed, and the chill raised goose bumps on her skin. She realized, with a flash of annoyance, that she wasn't wearing any make-up, and hadn't shaved her legs in a few days. Oh well. Too late, now. Donatello still had his eyes closed and was gripping the edge of the bed like a life preserver. She noticed a weird creaking noise, and saw he was bouncing his knee slightly.

"Look at me," she ordered.

"April, you don't have to do th – " 

"I want you. To look. At me."

His breath hitched in his throat, and he squeezed his eyes even tighter. She knew he was using up the last of his resistance.

"I've got all night," she said, more softly, "And I'm not going anywhere."

Almost involuntarily his head turned towards her slightly, though his eyes were still closed. She smiled, said nothing, and waited.

His eyes fluttered, then opened, for a split second, less than a split second, and then he cringed, shut them again and looked away.

"Sorry," he said, automatically, "Sorry."

She sighed.

"Donnie, just be a damned scientist for one _minute,_ would you please?"

Hm. That seemed to strike a nerve. He froze in place, considering her words. She wasn't sure exactly how long she stood waiting – it felt like a long time, but time moves in funny ways when you're standing naked in front of somebody. At long last, though, his shoulders seemed to relax. His breathing normalized. He turned to face her, and nodded slowly. He took a deep breath, and slowly opened his eyes, staring fixedly at her feet.

"There you go," she said gently, encouragingly.

He was blushing so hard, his green skin had an almost rosy quality at his cheeks. His eyes darted shyly up, then immediately back down to the floor again.

"Oh geez."

He suddenly leaned forward, and crossed his arms over his lap.

"Donnie, it's okay," April soothed, "I _want_ you to – "

"Maybe…" he interrupted, and then gulped.

"Maybe?" April prompted, gently, "Maybe what, sweetie?"

He smiled, seemed a bit emboldened by the endearment.

"Um," he said, "Here."

He climbed down off the bed, kneeling beside it, and patted the mattress shyly, still staring at April's toes.

She smiled, and sat down at the edge of the bed. Seeing it out of the corner of her eye, and seized by inspiration, she grabbed her sleep mask from where it hung on the bedpost. It was light purple, smelled like lavender, and had "Sleeping Beauty" embroidered on it. (A gift from her Dad during midterms.) She guiltily realized he'd probably not expected her to use it in such a context, but – desperate times, and all that.

"Tell you what," April said, "I'm just going to put this on, lay back, and relax for a while. You take your time. No pressure. This is strictly a fact-finding mission. And no fair sneaking off, I'll hear you if you try to open the window."

She pulled the mask on, settled her pillows comfortably behind her. She put one arm under her head, tucked one ankle under her knee, and made a big show of sighing comfortably.

For a moment, everything went quiet. Eerily quiet. Every once in a while, she was reminded that Donatello was a ninja, skilled at silence and patience. Herself? Not so much. The idea that Donnie was inches away from her, staring at her…well, it made it a bit difficult to sit still. She forced herself not to move, to be stoic. Fact-finding mission, science, dispassionate observation, all that.

For a moment, she worried he really had used some magical, stealthy ninja vanishing skills and abandoned her...but then the bed creaked and shifted ever so slightly – she realized he was leaning closer. She tried to breathe as normally as possible, tried not to worry if he was staring at the slight pudge she'd put on for midterms and still had not quite managed to fully get rid of.

"You…" he started, then stopped himself. His voice sounded loud in the room, even though he was whispering.

"You're so _beautiful_," he whispered, reverently.

April flushed with pleasure, felt goose bumps rise on her arms.

"Heh," Donnie laughed, softly, "Cool."

He inhaled softly, and then April felt his cool breath as he blew lightly across her arm. She shivered, and a fresh wave of goose bumps rippled up and down her entire body, causing her nipples to harden. She inhaled sharply.

"Amazing," Donnie whispered, "You're incredible."

Unable to resist anymore, she slyly tried to peek out of the bottom of her sleep mask. Donnie wasn't looking at her face, so she subtly, slowly reached up and slid it off. If he noticed, he didn't say anything. He was staring at the small tuft of red hair on her mons like he was identifying a rare species of butterfly, or writing code. He slowly reached for her, like a man hypnotized. His green fingers landed lightly there, and smoothed her hair softly. April made a small, involuntarily moan. Damn. That felt _too_ good.

Donnie's head snapped towards her in panic, his eyes meeting hers, realizing her blindfold was off. Oops.

"Sorry," he stammered, "Sorry, I should have – I don't know what I was thinking. Is this?..."

April smiled and nodded. "It's okay. It's a little better than okay, actually. Go ahead."

He blushed, and smiled shyly. "I don't really know what I'm doing."

He blinked.

"Which is weird. Y'know, for me."

April smiled. "You don't _have_ to do anything. Just a fact-finding mission, remember?"

She lay her head back again, and closed her eyes, so he'd feel more comfortable.

She waited some more.

She tried not to jump as she felt Donnie's hand land lightly on her thigh. He slid his fingers up and down her leg timidly. Then, courage apparently gathered once more, he softly smoothed his fingertips over the hair on her mound of venus again. She sighed comfortably, spread her legs just a bit more for him. His fingertips traced the outlines of her lips gently, paused where they met.

"May I?" he breathed. His voice sounded…different.

"Yes, you may," April whispered, grinning up at the ceiling with her eyes closed.

_Fucking finally. Hm. Strike that, reverse it.  
><em>  
>Donnie tried delicately to part her lips, but seemed to be terrified of hurting her. After fumbling for a few seconds, he mumbled "Um…"<p>

"A bit lower," she said, "and a bit more firmly."

Finally he managed it, and she sighed in contentment as he explored hesitantly. He spread her a bit more fully, and suddenly she almost jumped out of her skin as his fingernail snagged on the hood of her clit. She inhaled sharply through her teeth.

"SOR –"

"I know," April sighed, "It's _okay_, Donnie."

"Well, I _am_," he offered remorsefully, "I thought…that was supposed to be a good thing?"

"It is," she smiled, "Just be careful of your nails. And your fingers are dry, that makes it a little uncomfortable."

"Hm. So how do…ah, that's convenient. Never mind. Figured it out. Sorry."

April grinned and shook her head, as Donnie carefully slid his finger over her entrance, already slick from his gentle, curious prodding.

"That okay?" he asked, nervously, "Doesn't hurt?"

"No," April sighed. She squirmed pleasantly. "Doesn't hurt. Opposite of hurts."

After gently exploring for another minute or so, he ventured north a wee bit, gently circling, until –

"Oo," April said, quietly, "Hm."

"Good? Bad?" Donnie asked anxiously, "More words, please."

"Good," April sighed, "Mm. Bit lower."

"Here?"

"Mmm. There," April groaned. Damn. This was getting good real quick.

"Should I keep going?" Donnie asked, breathlessly.

"Mm. Yes, please," April sighed, "A little faster. OW. Not quite that fast. _Stop _apologizing," she added before he could speak, "Just…oo. Good. Just…like that."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," April said, breathing heavier, "Getting a bit dry, though, you need to –"

"Got it," Donnie said. He dipped his finger gently into her, just an inch or so, then traced her own wetness back up, rubbing small circles. Her breath hitched.

"You're a quick study," she said, not quite able to keep her voice steady.

"Good teacher," he murmured, shyly.

But then his finger was in slightly the wrong place again. April tried to shift her hips without him noticing.

"No good?" he mumbled, "Use more words."

"I can't really…" she said, frustratedly, "It's hard to explain. Here."

She reached down and took his hand gently, guiding him where he needed to be.

"Ah," he said, "Okay, I think I –

"Aah!"

His eyes widened.

"Good!" April panted, "Good 'aah.'"

"Okay," Donnie whispered, looking wide-eyed and somewhat terrified. April giggled, and he sort of giggled too, but then he slipped off the right spot again, and April groaned inwardly. This was more of a tease than anything else, and he looked a little overwhelmed. Maybe that was enough for a "fact-finding mission" – she didn't want to scare him off. She sighed, and put her hand gently on his wrist to stop him, reflecting that it wasn't all that bad for a first try.

"Let's take a break," she said, kindly.

"Did I do something wrong? I didn't hurt you, right?" 

Aw. He looked so sad.

"No," April smiled, "It was great. Honest. Just – no need to rush it."

"Okay," Donnie hesitated, "if you're sure."

Her heart tugged pleasantly at the little gap in his teeth. She must have been smiling, because he gave her a goofy grin in return.

"_Arigatou gozaimasu_," he murmured formally. He nodded reverently, kneeling at her bedside with a soft smile, like her own little green Buddha.

"Well, thank _you_ very much," April beamed.

He grinned down at his hand as though he couldn't quite believe what he'd just been doing with it. Then, to April's horror, he closed his eyes, and brought his fingers up to his nose.

"What? Hey," she said, pulling his hand down, in alarm, and giggling nervously, "Um. Don't."

Donnie blinked.

"Why not?"

"Because… I dunno," April blushed, "Some guys, they don't like – it's just…kinda gross, I guess?"

Donnie looked wounded. Then suddenly his expression clouded and he was scowling at her. April was surprised to see such an unusual expression on Donnie's face. He _never_ scowled at her.

"I think it's beautiful," he said, defiantly, "I love the way you smell."

April found it both adorable and slightly mortifying to hear him state it so baldly. She was sure she was red as a beet.

"Um. 'Kay. Thanks."

"Why would you say that?" he demanded, "_No_ part of you is gross. Especially not…don't _say_ stuff like that."

"Huh," April mused. She pretended to pick lint off her sheets coyly, sensing an opportunity, "I'm sorry, Donnie, I didn't mean to upset you. Why does it bother you so much?"

"Because you're _beautiful_," he said instantly, earnestly, "I _love_ you, everything about you, April. What you just shared with me it's – _special_. _You're_ special. It hurts to hear you talk down about yourself like that, I feel like – _oh._"

April held his gaze and raised her eyebrows expectantly.

"Huh," Donatello said, looking away, "Okay. I see what you did there." 

She started to sit up, and Donnie's eyes grew wide as saucers. He quickly leaned into the bed, and turned slightly away from her. She met his scared eyes, willed herself not to glance down, and sighed, flopping back down on the bed. Two steps forward, one step back.

"It's okay, Donnie," she sighed, "Tonight was really new. I know you're trying, I just want to let you know I appreciate it. You don't have to do anything you're not ready for. I'll give you a minute to, uh, get things…settled."

She turned her head to the wall, and closed her eyes, sighing deeply. The room grew eerily still again. She wondered if he would excuse himself? Maybe she should cover up. Or offer him a blanket or a towel or something? She was just about to grab her blanket, when –

"Fair is fair."

His voice was so quiet, she could barely hear him, but there was no mistaking it. She turned back towards him. He was smiling nervously. Was this really happening?

"Um. I think it might be better if…here."

Reaching up by her head, where she'd already forgotten it, he handed her the sleep mask again. Disappointed, she nodded, and put it on again, figuring he'd changed his mind yet again. She was a bit surprised when she heard him shift slightly, and his hand closed gently around hers.

He helped her into a sitting position, and then the bed sank slightly as he sat right next to her.

"I think maybe this is better," he said, shyly, "at least at first."

He closed his hand around her wrist, lifted her hand slightly. "If that's okay?"

April nodded, mutely, her heart thudding in her chest. Moment of truth.

Donnie brought her hand to his lips and kissed it.

"Okay, just," he sighed, "Don't freak out."

He placed her hand on his plastron, over his heart, pressed it gently, and then took his hand away. Even through the thick, protective layer, she could feel his heart hammering. He leaned back slightly and the cheap bed frame creaked – it seemed really loud in the small dorm room. April nodded slowly, and began sliding her hand south. She could hear him breathing next to her, slightly harder than usual. She kept reaching, down to the end of his plastron, and began feeling around the edge of it curiously.

"A bit lower" Don whispered, barely audible, "It's kind of –"

He cut himself off with a sharp intake of breath, as April's hand brushed against…something.

"Is that?…"

"Mm-hm," he muttered. She could tell by the way he was breathing carefully through his nose he was trying not to panic. She smiled in what she hoped was a confident and reassuring way, though she herself was trying very hard to stay calm.

Cautiously, she reached out with her fingers again, and found him. He was slightly warm, but not as warm as she was expecting…but then again, she should have anticipated that. She wrapped her hand around it. Her eyebrows lifted under the mask, and she tried to keep her face impassive. Yikes. Pretty thick. Okay, _really_ thick. Still, things seemed to be fairly…as expected, thus far. Maybe this wouldn't be so…

She started sliding her hand down, trying to find its origin. Her fingers hit something scaly, and slightly damp. She prodded softly with her fingertips.

"That's your?..."

"Tail," Donnie hissed through gritted teeth, "Mm-hm."

April nodded slowly.

_Okay, weird. But not _too_ weird, right? Considering?..._

_I am currently touching my boyfriend's tail._

_Okay, it's weird. Moving on.  
><em>  
>She slowly slid her hand back up his shaft where it protruded, wanting to find his head. She kept sliding, still expecting to reach the end of him, and her eyebrows kept creeping upwards just like her hand. She was having a hard time keeping a poker face. <em>Damnit.<em> How…just how _much_?!…

_Don't freak out. Don't freak out, don't freak out, don't – _

Her thumb brushed something, and she paused.

_Okay. We're there. Finally.  
><em>  
>Slowly, she began to probe and explore with her fingers.<p>

_What is – what am I even…_

She brought her other hand over to join.

_What the hell was that? And _that_?! Were those…were there ridges? Why were there _ridges_?! And…wait, was that the slit? Then what was _this _over here?  
><em>  
>She wished she could see what the hell she was dealing with, and at the same time, was profoundly grateful she could not. Then, without warning, it twitched in her hands, and she almost jumped out of her skin.<p>

Heart racing, April broke out in a cold sweat. Donnie was not kidding. This was…well, _different_. Scary different. _Too_ different. He was right all along – she'd been chomping at the bit, raring to go, and all along he'd known it would be too much, too fast. He had been so awed by her, so appreciative, almost reverent – all she could feel was panic, even – she felt a deep wave of shame as she admitted it to herself – disgust.

This was exactly what she'd been afraid of; _she _was exactly what he was afraid of: a stupid, shallow, selfish girl, frightened by just how _other_ he was, unable to cope, unable to hide her shock. She knew she was failing him, but didn't even know what to say. What _do_ you say? "What the fuck _is_ that? What do I even _do_ with this?" Oh god, _say_ something, April.

"Hng."

April froze.

_Wait, did he? – _

"Mmn," Donnie whimpered softly.

_Oh. Um…that was interesting.  
><em>  
>April repeated what she'd just been doing, tracing her finger over what felt like a long, damp ridge.<p>

"Ung!…"

Hearing Donnie make that noise brought a sudden flush of heat to April's body. Her nervousness changed quality, somehow. She realized she'd been holding her breath, and let it out in a rush. Next to her, Donnie sighed in sympathy. She heard the breath catch raggedly in his throat.

In that moment, something shifted.

It wasn't a grand, sweeping revelation, like an earthquake or a thunderclap – it was more like the first moment a seed cracks open deep in the earth, and the first tiny green shoot starts reaching for the surface…soft, silent – and just as irreversible.

Suddenly, he didn't seem as strange anymore. Suddenly this wasn't just some weird alien _thing_ in her hands; it was connected to _him_ – a real, actual person. A person she _loved_.

She tried the same gesture again, a little more firmly. He twitched in her hands once more.

"Hah…ah," Donnie sighed, "W-wait, if you keep…doing that…"

April smirked, her cheeks lifting against the mask. She smelled lavender and sex and the room was loud with their breathing.

"What, like this?"

"AAh!" Donnie groaned, "April!"

Hearing her name on his lips, the last of April's doubts fell away. She smiled softly, felt a glowing warmth bloom in her chest, and a twisting ache growing deep in her belly. It would be okay, somehow. They'd figure something out.

"You make cute noises," she whispered.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

He let out a low growl, involuntarily, and she grinned, a warm flush heating her body and tingling in her loins, a stark contrast to the cool of the kitchen floor. She leaned back a bit so she could watch him sliding through her hands, knowing it wouldn't be long, that he was already close, hungry to make him feel as good as he'd made her feel. To her surprise, she felt the tension building low and tight in her stomach again. Using her legs, she guided his leg between hers, and she sighed in pleasure, grinding up against his thigh as he thrust into her hands, his knobbly head rubbing against her belly.

She wondered that she had ever found him strange or intimidating, even alien – the deep, purple color, almost black, the impossible, incompatible size of him, the folds and sinuses at his head like the petals of some other-worldly lotus – now she could only find it all beautiful, fascinating…sexy. The room was full of the smell of sex and damp moss, and she smiled at the pleasant shudder that went through her.

"Hn…nnn!" Donnie whimpered softly, and April smiled. Always so shy. So polite.

"It's okay," she whispered, soothingly, "It's okay, sweetie."

"_Aanh_!" Donnie panted, helplessly, "I'm – "

"I love you," April sighed, feeling her own climax building, quieter this time, but somehow deeper, more profound, muscles deep inside stretching and flexing in pleasure, as she squeezed his leg between hers, the thick length of him gliding through her hands and against her belly, faster now, closer and closer. "I love you, Donnie."

"_Angh_!" Donatello grimaced, and crushed her to him so tightly, for a moment it stopped her breath. She felt him trembling against her, pressed between them, and felt the languorous, satisfying ache blossom through her loins, groaned contentedly as he twitched helplessly in her hands, lost to the powerful throes of his climax. She felt a little thrill of pleasure at the warmth that spilled over her, just below her breasts. Finally, he slumped against her, exhausted and breathless.

"_Aishiteru_." His reedy, wavering tenor panted in her hair, and she smiled a lazy smile, nuzzling into the crook of his arm, drifting in perfect bliss, as she let the whispered endearments wash over her. "_Aishiteru, watashi no saiai. Watashi no utsukushi tsuma."_ i

She let the endearments wash over her, knowing yet not-quite knowing exactly what they meant. She caught the words "I love you," and "wife," at least. She knew he'd be too shy to translate for her, but she also knew that they understood each other just the same.

"Four," she murmured, leaning forward to place a soft kiss on his neck. 

"Really?" he rumbled groggily, and nudged his thigh against her, "Guess I give good leg."

April giggled into his neck.

"I need a minute, though, if we're going for five..."

"I'm good," she said, quickly, "It's uh…well, it's been a busy weekend."

Donnie chuckled. It made her head bounce oddly on his arm.

"Well, you were on an important mission."

"That I was," April agreed, shyly.

Donnie paused.

"D'you think?..."

April shook her head.

"Let's not even think about it yet. It'll only drive us crazy."

"Mm. Good idea. The not-thinking idea. Let me know how that works out for you.

"Hah, hah."

She sighed.

"I'm noticing now that we're on the floor," she remarked.

"Indeed we are. Hey, new room for us. High eight."

"High eight," she replied, meeting his hand softly, and lacing her fingers through his as best she could. She shifted idly, so her hipbone wasn't screaming against the floor. "Didn't really notice it before, but I will go ahead and say it: the floor is hard."

"A concrete analysis, Miss O'Neil."

"…Did you really just?..."

"Well, I couldn't say it was a _linoleum_ analysis."

"_Baka_," she teased, tickling the soft skin right above his bridge playfully. He giggled, and pulled away from her, so she stopped right away – she wanted to keep him close.

"Shower?"

"Good idea."

As they were sitting up, Donnie suddenly gasped.

"Oh no," he sighed, crestfallen. He gently swiped his fingers over her collarbone.

She glanced down, and saw the purple hickey that Casey had left there.

"I hurt you," Donnie sighed miserably, "I can't believe I did that. I'm so sorry, I didn't – "

"No, no, it's fine," April smiled, "That's just Casey's idea of a joke, I guess."

Donnie blinked.

"He, um…he says 'hi, back.'"

The blink became a scowl.

_Aaaaand moment of bliss officially over. Great. Nice work, Jones.  
><em>  
>"Well that's <em>rude<em>," Don groused, "He thinks it's cute to annoy me by giving you a _contusion_?" 

"A contusion?" April said, flatly, "Really? It's a _hickey_, Don. Come on, you've _all_ given me worse sparring."

"Not with our _mouths_," Don sulked.

April sighed.

"I'm sorry, sweetie. He kinda caught me by surprise," she said, softly, "And I know you won't believe this, but I think he meant it affectionately."

"Duh," Don grumbled, "He's obviously got plenty of 'affection.'"

"I meant affectionate towards _you_," April sighed, stroking his shell, "I really don't think he meant it to be rude. Well…okay, he obviously did, but…you know…_friendly_-rude."

"Oh, of course. '_Friendly-rude_.' How could I possibly have misinterpreted _that_?"

"It's like him and Raph, right? They don't know any other way to say 'I like you,' and 'I respect you' than by insulting each other and beating each other up." 

"So let him try and give _me_ a hickey, then," he huffed, "See how far he gets."

April giggled involuntarily at the mental image, and finally, Don cracked a small smile and shook his head. He leaned forward, and softly ghosted his lips over the small purple mark. She smiled at the contrast between them – one so rough, the other so gentle…they'd both kissed the exact same spot, just a few short inches over her heart. It was strangely fitting.

"There," April soothed, smoothing her fingers over Donnie's scalp, "All better. Like magic."

"Hmph."

But she could see that he was smiling, again. He stood smoothly up off the floor in one fluid movement, and held out his hand chivalrously.

"You go ahead," April said, taking the hand up, and reaching for the WetJet where it leaned against the fridge, "I just wanna tidy up a bit."

"I'll wait. It's nicer together."

Donnie sighed and stretched, his fingertips brushing the ceiling, "So you're trying again tomorrow?"

"Yeah, lunch break," April sighed, giving the floor a quick once-over with the Swiffer, "Truthfully, I kind of want to cancel. I'm _exhausted_, but…the next week or so is really important."

"Sorry, hon," Donnie lazily traced a finger up and down her back, "Didn't mean to tire you out."

April waved a hand dismissively, and stopped to rest her chin on the mop handle.

"Guess we could try freezing, that's what Sue – you remember I told you about Susan, from the station? Anyway, that's what she and Beth did, but it's really not as – "

_**SMAT!**_

The sound echoed off the hard surfaces in the kitchen, and April's mouth formed a perfect "O" as she dropped the mop and wheeled around to face her husband, both hands gingerly cupping the smarting, glowing, three-fingered handprint now adorning her ass cheek.

"Just saying hello," Donnie smirked, and strolled lazily towards the shower, "Y'know, being '_friendly-rude_.'"

"Oh, you are _dead_. _So_ dead!"

He evaded her retaliatory strike with a giggle, and they raced each other to the shower.

i "I adore you, my beloved, my beautiful wife." Aishiteru is actually "I love you," but since this usage is stronger than something like "Daisuki," I translated it as "adore." It's worth noting most Japanese men would likely find this humiliating. (Splinter, for example, would probably be mortified to hear his son so being so effusive.) But Donnie's American, and also a great big sap when it comes to April. Helpful source: ( li lyginn po st/19869431350/did- you-know-that-in-japan-the re-are-3-w ays-to-say)


	6. Chapter 6

Casey snorted awake, and groaned as "She Blinded Me With Science" rang out in his quiet bedroom. He briefly considered ignoring it, but then realized it might be April, or, in a worst-case scenario, Donnie might've been patrolling and gotten himself into a jam he couldn't get himself out of. Grumbling, he fumbled around until he found his T-phone, jammed his thumb on the green button and brought it to his ear.

"Hello?! Casey?! _Casey_, are you _there?!"_

Casey sat up abruptly in bed at the panic in Donnie's voice, clutching the T-phone tight to his ear.

"Donnie. Yeah, you okay? S'wrong?"

"Oh, thank God," Donnie babbled, "Casey – thank God. You gotta help me, man. I-I-I-I didn't know what else to – "

Casey held the phone away, as the unmistakable sound of retching filled his ears.

"I've tried _everything_, ginger ale, crackers, rubbing her back, holding her hair, she won't even let me _touch_ her anymore, all she does is puke and cry and yell at me and then cry and yell and puke and then she yells and then pukes, and then cries some more, and then – "

"Okay, I get the picture," Casey grumbled, checking the clock. One a.m. Damnit.

"I wouldn't ask," Donnie continued, miserably, "I mean, it was bad yesterday, but within normal limits, but now I'm beginning to suspect it's hyperemesis gravidarum, and – "

"Hyper-what?" Casey snapped, "Wait, what's wrong with April?"

Donnie made a small noise of frustration, "_Hyperem_ – it's Greek for '_she won't stop puking_,' okay?! Well, half-Greek. _Gravidarum_ is Latin in etymology, from the - "

"Donnie."

"Right, sorry, uh…uh…I already called her doctor's office, the N.P. phoned in a prescription for an anti-emetic, but April –"

Donnie's voice was interrupted by another horrifying wave of vomit noises, and garbled, sobbing cuss words. Casey winced.

"April obviously can't go, and I…"

Casey could almost see him grinding his teeth in frustration.

"I…can't. They'd…I can't go get it for her, Casey."

Casey wasn't known as the world's most sensitive guy, but he felt a pang for his friend. Since he'd met the turtles, Casey'd come to realize that there were so many things he took for granted; simple things – like walking into a pharmacy, for example. He vaguely wondered how the hell they were getting a hold of all of Splinter's medicine. Then, realizing it was probably illegal, decided it was best that he not know.

"Alright," Casey said, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, "Which one?"

"Oh thank God," Donnie sighed, in relief, "Casey, thank y –"

"Yep. Just tell me where it is."

Turned out there was a list of things they needed, including some Vitamin B supplements, varying flavors of Gatorade, and "mentholatum ointment" whatever the hell _that_ was. Soon he was staggering up to the counter at the all-night pharmacy, and let the stuff tumble from his arms unceremoniously.

"Picking up for April O'Neil," he mumbled, eyes smarting in the fluorescent light.

"You her husband?" the woman behind the counter asked.

"Um," Casey stalled. Huh. Well, if he said no, they might not let him pick up the prescription. But if he said yes, and Donnie was listed in their system…should he lie and say he _was_ Donnie? But it was already too late for that, because she was already squinting at him suspiciously. Stupid, Casey.

"I need your ID, please."

"Casey Jones," he grumbled, forking over his driver's license, "Look, she really needs this stuff."

There was a clacking as the pharmacist typed in the computer, then she eyed him with resignation.

"Alright. You're authorized."

Casey nodded, trying not to look too surprised, and put his driver's license back in his wallet. April or Donnie must have added him into the system somehow. Huh. The thought made him feel kinda good, actually.

Not long after, Casey was knocking on April and Donnie's door, clutching a Duane Reade bag that was almost as heavy as the bags under his eyes. The door opened instantly, and Don drew him into a desperate hug.

"_Yes! Thank you_! Oh _man,_ Casey, I –

"Yeah, it's fine," Casey grumbled, wrinkling his nose, "God, you stink."

"Right, well that's…our little ray of sunshine," Donnie said wearily, closing the door behind them, "She got me good. I tried to clean up, but it's not like I can shower, she's kind of…commandeered the entire…"

He gestured helplessly down the hall, where Casey could hear low sobbing. 

"Well, you'll see."

Casey blinked, "Wait, I'm – you want _me_ to?..."

Donnie snorted mirthlessly. There were dark circles under his eyes.

"Well she doesn't want _me_, that's for damn sure. 'Don't touch me, leave me alone, this is all your fault,' etcetera. She was fairly specific."

"Well…I guess really it's all _my_ fault," Casey said, eyeing the hallway that lead the bathroom nervously, "Y'know, _technically_."

"I think April has decided there is plenty of blame to go around," Donnie replied, crossing to the sofa wearily and sagging into it.

Casey shifted nervously.

"Start with the mentholatum…it's the stuff that coroners use," Donnie sighed, crossing to the sofa, and sinking down wearily, "It should help with her hyperolfaction. Err, smell, she's real sensitive to smells, so…this should help. Just give her a whiff first, and see if she can tolerate it, and if she can, give her a little under her nose. Then, see if she can tolerate her meds with a little sip of Gatorade. If she can hold that down for twenty minutes, it should give it time to work. If we catch a break, maybe we can even get her showered and into some fresh clothes."

"Guess I'm hangin' out tonight," Casey said, eyeing the sofa and already feeling his neck cramping up.

"Take the bed," Donnie gestured, weakly, "April's certainly not using it, and I'm going to stay up in case…well, just in case."

There was another moan, followed by a retch down the hall. Casey felt his stomach roil in sympathy, and he cracked his neck and straightened his posture.

"Godspeed," Donnie sighed, massaging his temples.

Casey opened the door and found April slumped over the toilet, tears streaming down her face. She was sweaty and pale, hair pulled into a scrunchee (who even had those anymore?) and was shivering in the Keroppi pajamas Mikey had got her a few Christmases ago. She looked so abjectly miserable it almost would have been funny if it were happening to anyone else.

"Don, I _told_ you to leave me al –"

She interrupted herself as she saw that it was Casey, and suddenly erupted into a fresh batch of tears.

"He _hates_ me," she bawled.

"What gave ya that dumb idea?" Casey asked, placing the Duane Reade bag on the floor near April, and having a seat on the edge of tub.

"He called _you_," April moaned.

Casey chuckled.

"Gee, Red, you sure know how to make a guy feel welcome."

April suddenly glared daggers at him.

"You," she hissed, "This is _your_ fault. _You _did this to m – oh God."

She wheeled away from him, desperately, and dry heaved into the toilet. There was nothing left to come up, but her body was still seized with paroxysms of misery. When she was finally done, she moaned weakly, and curled up on the tile floor like a dog. Fresh tears began leaking from her eyes.

"I said such awful things," she whimpered.

"Yeah, you do that sometimes," Casey said, good-naturedly. April glared daggers at him.

"You don't have be so_ amused_," she muttered, "I'm having kind of a tough time, in case you didn't notice." 

"Oh, don't be so dramatic" Casey said lightly, giving her a conciliatory pat on the rump, "Millions and millions of women have done this before. You'll be aright."

It was a mark of just how sick April was that she only had the energy to scowl at him. He sat on the floor, with his back to the tub, and started rooting through the Duane Reade bag between his legs. He took out the menthol-whatever Donnie was talking about, and started unscrewing the lid.

"What's that?" she asked, apprehensively.

"S'for your nose. Donnie says it's the stuff that coroners use, y'know, for the dead body sm – "

April held up a warning hand, and squinched her eyes shut.

"I meeeean it's a from a magical land of fairies and unicorns, where everything smells like Ben-Gay. Now stick your nose in there."

"I can't," April sobbed.

"Not askin', Red," Casey said, gently. He held the jar up to her face. She turned away, and moaned weakly.

"'Zat make it better or worse?"

"Nothing makes it better," April whined pitifully, "And it couldn't _possibly _be any worse. I can't sleep, can't keep any foo...oh God. I can't even talk about it. I can't even poop."

"Thanks for sharing," Casey said, wrinkling his nose.

"Dehydrated," April mumbled, pressing her face into the cool tiles, "Your fault."

"I think we can all share the blame on this one," Casey said, "'Takes three to tango' and all that. Besides, talkin' means you're not pukin', so maybe this is doin' something after all. Here."

He dipped his finger into the white goop, and reached out to April. She shook her head and tried to turn away, but he put a little dab under her nose.

"Like you said, can't get any worse. See if that helps," he said, "With the smells. Speakin' of which, we gotta get you in the shower, you reek."

"Jerk," April mumbled, half-heartedly.

Casey grinned. "There's my girl. How's that nose goop treating' ya?"

She inhaled tentatively through her nose, and waited, tensely. Casey saw her eyeing the toilet suspiciously. No fireworks.

"Okay, no puking, three minutes n' counting," Casey said, "New record."

"Hurray," April moaned, raising a fist in mock celebration.

"Now you gotta take your meds," Casey said, unscrewing the Gatorade. April moaned softly, seeing it coming.

"No bitchin'," Casey scolded. He set down the Gatorade in front of her, and started fumbling with the child-proof cap on her meds.

"Lemme try just the Gatorade first," April muttered weakly, "Don't wanna waste the pills."

She reached out, took the bottle, and took as tiny a sip as she could manage.

"OH GOD," she cried, and was immediately sick again. Casey winced, and tried to pat her back reassuringly.

"NNNnng…nooo, no, no," she moaned, pushing his hand away, "Makes it…worse."

She heaved again, her stomach already empty, only managing a thin line of acrid drool.

"Sorry," Casey muttered, weakly. Geez. Poor thing. She _was_ a mess.

Finally she managed to regain some control.

"The citrus and the menthol," she said, gesturing to the white goop by her nose, "Brrr…"

"Well," Casey said, taking another bottle of Gatorade out, "I got some kinda Arctic Mint flavor here..."

April's face crumpled miserably as a fresh wave of tears sprang up.

"…buuuut we can wait a couple minutes before we try again."

"Three minutes?" April begged.

Casey smiled. "Hell, let's go for four. See if we can break the record."

She nodded, weakly, and slumped back down to the floor. Casey checked his phone for the time, set it on the tiles, and leaned against the tub, sighing.

"Thank you," April murmured, "For doing this."

Casey just nodded, and didn't reply.

"Don means well," she continued, her throat raw and ragged-sounding, "He just kept _hovering_, asking me questions."

"He just hates seeing you miserable."

"Whereas you seem to _enjoy_ it," April snarked.

"No, I don't," Casey murmured seriously, looking into her eyes.

April looked up at him and managed to give him a watery little smile.

"Oof!" Casey teased, putting his hands over his heart, "Breakin' my _heart_! Who is this _fox _with the spit on her chin?"

April's grin widened slightly, and wiped her mouth. She turned her face to the tile and wearily flipped him the bird.

"Quit flirtin' with me, O'Neil. You know I like it when you're mean. S'a real turn-on."

"Mmph," mumbled, face to the floor. She bundled up a towel lying there and made herself a pillow.

Casey picked up his T-phone again, checking the time. "So I downloaded this thing for my phone – tells you what size the baby is."

"Embryo," April muttered, "Don actually calls it 'the embryo.' Makes me feel like the freaking Queen from Aliens. '_It's important to be accurate_.'" 

"He's just scared, April," Casey said, knowing the feeling all too well. "He's afraid he'll fall in love and then…"

Her eyes glistened and welled up, and Casey clenched his jaw, turning away. They had been so happy the last time, and…well, it had been very early in the pregnancy. And at least they hadn't told anybody yet.

Cold comfort.

"It wasn't like this. Y'know, before," April moaned softly.

"We didn't get this far before," Casey said, pushing a strand of hair out of her face, "Which is good news, see? That's why you gotta be a trooper, and take your meds. Do it for the Peanut."

He tapped his phone, and smiled encouragingly, "Week seven already! '_Your baby is the size of a peanut_.' Kinda cute, right? I wonder if they mean the whole peanut, like, with the shell and all, or just one peanut?"

"Just one," April sighed. Casey quirked an eyebrow at her.

"Don downloaded something similar," she explained, "But his said blueberry. Oh God, please, stop naming foods."

He glanced at the phone again.

"That's three minutes," Casey said gently, opening a lurid blue bottle of Gatorade, "Let's try a sip and shower."

The second sip of Gatorade appeared to be staying down, at least mercifully long enough for April to get a lukewarm shower. He briefly puzzled how he was going to dry her off, as the only towels he could see, she had made into a little nest on the floor. April turned off the water, and he was about to shrug and hand her his T-shirt, when he heard a timid knock at the door. He opened it to find Donnie standing there with two neatly folded towels.

"Were you just…standing out there?" Casey asked, surprised.

"Well, I heard the water going," he replied, trying to peer anxiously around Casey's shoulder. "How we doin', hon?"

"Eight minutes," she replied, wearily, "New record."

"Did she take the –

"I'm right here," April grumbled from behind the curtain.

"Did you take the anti-emetic sweetie?"

"I can't keep anything down, _darling_."

"Hey. Be nice," Casey scolded over his shoulder. He turned back to Donnie, "We were gonna try that next. She's just a lil'….y'know."

He waggled his hand back and forth dubiously, as if he were talking about an engine that wouldn't turn over.

"Casey….thank you," Donnie said, sincerely, and Casey was horrified to see his eyes were glistening, "This is the best she's been all day, if you hadn't picked up, I don't know what I –"

"Okay, okay. Geez. Sure _you're_ not pregnant?"

Donnie laughed wryly, and mopped his weary face with his hand.

"Alright. I'ma get some shut-eye. Tag me out," Casey said, offering his fist. Donnie bumped it, and they traded places. "You gotta spare blanket or somethin'?"

"I told you, take the bed," Donnie said, "You're taller. Couch doesn't bother me."

There was a loud sniff from behind the shower curtain.

"You guys are being so _nice_," April whimpered, obviously crying again.

Casey made exasperated eye contact with Don, put two fingers up to his head and mimed pulling the trigger. Donnie grinned helplessly, then turned to his wife.

"Of course, honey. We're _always_ nice," he said warmly, parting the shower curtain and holding a towel out for her.

"I'm _sorryyyyyyy,"_ April keened, and Casey heard Donnie muttering soothing nonsense to her as he let the door click behind him.


	7. Chapter 7

April sighed, and the keys jangled as she dumped them in the Chinese bowl by the door. She hung her coat on the hook and groaning, tugged her shirt aside and unbuttoned her jeans in relief. She was going to have to surrender and buy some maternity clothes, and soon. Now that she was finally able to keep food down, she found she was ravenous all the time, and between that and the baby's steady growth, even her "fat pants," pilfered from the back of her closet, weren't cutting it anymore. She'd been putting it off, holding her breath, terrified to jinx anything – but they were finally into the second trimester. Finally they'd been able to tell the family. 

She smiled as she remembered her father's response… 

**TMNTtmntTMNTtmntTMNTtmntTMNTtmntTMNTtmntTMNTtmntTMNTtmnt**

"It's so good to see you, sweetheart."

April regarded her Dad from the kitchen, where she was preparing them some cheese and crackers (and helping herself liberally in the process.) He was perched carefully on the edge of the couch. He had come so far since the days of the invasion, but still had a slightly nervous air to his mannerisms, never quite settling where he was, always poised for flight. He seemed slighter than she remembered, somehow…as though his frame had shrunk a bit, with age. He'd finally conceded defeat and shaved the rest of his head, but he still had his moustache and a small goatee, though they were both flecked liberally with gray.

"It's good to see you too, Dad," she said, truthfully, "It's been way too long."

"Well, you're a busy girl," Kirby replied, raising his wine glass a bit in a toast, "Channel Six Field Correspondent." 

April smiled and crossed into the living room, setting the cheese plate down.

"Thanks, Daddy." She had a seat across from him.

"Hey, maybe some day soon they'll be offering you a crack at the big desk?" Kirby asked slyly.

April sighed. "Dad, we've been over this. I don't _want _to be an anchor. I'm a journalist, not an _actor_. Besides, you know I like being in the field."

"And you know I just like you to be safe," Kirby countered, "Besides, I imagine it'd come with a pretty attractive raise. You _are _the sole breadwinner, after all…"

April bristled slightly.

"Only because Donnie's too busy _saving the world_ to make minimum wage doing tech support," she replied, hotly. "Besides, the call center made him miserable – you know as well as I do he's wasted there. And I think we're doing alright."

She indicated their spacious apartment with a sweep of her arm.

"Of course," Kirby said soothingly, holding his hands up in surrender, "Of course you are. I'm sorry, sweetie, I didn't mean for that to sound rude. It's my job to worry about you, that's all."

April sighed, and shook her head with a reluctant smile. "We're _fine,_ Dad."

"I know you are. I'm very proud of you, you know."

April smiled wider, mollified. "Thanks, Dad."

"It's true. Now, you sure I can't tempt you?" Kirby said, indicating the open bottle of wine on the table, "I really thought I remembered you liking Shiraz…"

"I do," April replied, warmly, "It was really thoughtful of you, Dad, but I'm good with water for now."

"You're not still sick, are you?" he asked, wincing sympathetically, "That was some flu."

"Yeah," April grinned. This was kind of fun, actually. "Some flu. But I'm feeling much better now." 

"Well, thank goodness for that. This looks delicious!" Kirby said, rubbing his hands together, and selecting a cracker. "Let's see…looks like we've got Swiss, Brie, and a nice blue?"

"Gorgonzola," April smiled, "Your favorite."

"Mm…yours too, as I recall," Kirby smiled, placing one on her plate for her.

"Actually, I'm just going to stick to the Swiss for now," April smiled, "It's a bit milder."

Kirby frowned, "You _are_ still recovering, aren't you? I know how busy you are, but you've got to take care of yourself, April."

"Actually," April grinned, "It's not that, Dad. I'm fine. I'm actually better than fine. I've…got some good news."

"Oh?" Kirby replied, "Well, we could always use some more of that."

"I'm…um…"

"Well, don't keep me in suspense!"

She took a deep breath, trying to think of the perfect way to tell him. She assumed that it would just come to her in the moment, but she suddenly felt very nervous. Saying it out loud to her father would make it real…what if…what if she jinxed it, somehow? The Universe hadn't always dealt them a fair hand. In fact, over the years, she'd learned to greet good news with suspicion – always waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Kirby frowned at the blue cheese on his plate and the wine in his glass and then slowly, his eyes grew wide with wonder. He turned back to April.

"_How_?" he asked, in a small voice.

"Dad!" April scolded, "You have to at least let me _tell_ you first!"

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry," he said, scrambling to put his plate back on the new coffee table, and almost knocking his wine over in the process. He turned on the sofa to face her, and grabbed both her hands. He grinned up at her in excitement.

"What do you need to tell me?" he asked, evenly. He was trying so hard to be the patient, supportive psychologist – "Dr. Dad" – but his eyes were sparkling eagerly.

April laughed.

"Dad, you're going to be a grandfather. I'm pregnant."

"Oh, April! Oh, sweetheart!" he crowed, and threw his arms around her in a fierce hug, "I can't…that is just – "

April felt happy tears pricking at her eyes. Her father had had a difficult life – losing her mother, raising her on his own, being kidnapped by the Kraang, being mutated – _multiple_ times…and dealing with his daughter's unusual second family. But he'd always been there for her, always loved her no matter what. She was so glad that she could bring something joyful into his life for once, instead of something terrifying and strange. 

"But _how_?" he repeated, incredulously. He drew back, his hands on her shoulders.

"Um," April teased, "You need a diagram?"

Kirby scowled, "April, you know very well what I mean."

April giggled, "Well, uh – we had some help."

"Like, a clinic?" Kirby prompted, "A donor?"

"Like…a friend," April said, delicately.

Kirby absorbed this, thoughtfully. April felt her heart bump against her ribs a little more forcefully. She knew her father would want some kind of explanation, but was hoping he wouldn't ask too much.

"Ah," he said, simply. A slight shadow passed over his expression.

"I take it we are having a little hockey fan?" he asked, nodding at her stomach.

April blushed, and nodded awkwardly. Dr. Dad, research psychologist, strikes again.

"Huh," he said, more soberly, "I'm just going to…"

He reached for his glass of wine and took a big gulp.

"Are you…okay?" April asked, tentatively.

"I, uh…I will be," Kirby said, hesitantly. He sighed wearily. "Oh, April. Well, these things happen, I suppose. What's happening with you and Don? I'll support you no matter what you want to do." 

April wrinkled her nose, confusedly. "Do about…no, wait, Dad, listen to me: Donnie's thrilled. He's over the moon. We all are."

Kirby's blinked. "He's…" 

His eyes widened, as comprehension slowly dawned.

"He knew. I mean – this is – you three are…"

April nodded, taking her Dad's hand in hers.

"You okay?"

Kirby didn't reply, but drained the rest of his glass and set it back down with a shaky hand.

"Dad, this is something we decided on, together. As….as a family," April said firmly, her cheeks glowing crimson, "I know it's unusual, but…we wanted to be parents, and we don't have a lot of options."

"I just assumed when you married Donnie that you didn't _want_ children," Kirby replied candidly. He stroked his goatee nervously, "I guess I always hoped you'd have a change of heart, but I figured adoption, maybe, or – "

"Dad, you _know_ that's not a great option for us," April sighed, "All of the scrutiny involved, a home study, the legal work…it's much safer for us this way. Besides, Casey is –"

"Is what?" Kirby interrupted, eyeing his daughter carefully, "Casey is what?"

April took a deep breath.

"Casey's a part of this, too," she said, firmly, "He's going to be a part of this family…our family."

"Do you love him?" Kirby asked, his eyes widening.

April blushed and looked away, "Dad…"

"Answer me, April. I'm worried about you." 

April sighed, putting her face in her hands. How could she possibly explain this to her father?

"Yes," she admitted, in a small voice.

"And Donnie?" he asked, gently, "Are you…you're still?..." 

"Yes," she reassured, hurriedly, "Very much. More than ever."

Kirby leaned back, and puffed out his cheeks slowly.

"Huh." 

Kirby grabbed the bottle, and refilled his glass to the brim.

"Are you okay?" she asked again, wincing.

Kirby cleared his throat.

"Well, I'm not going to lie, April, you've chosen a difficult path." 

His serious expression melted into a smile, and he turned towards her once more, patted her on the knee gently.

"I always knew you had a big heart," he smiled, gently, "I guess you just have a lot of love to give."

April squirmed with a mixture of gratitude and embarrassment.

"I know it's…a bit of a shock," she ventured, diplomatically.

To her surprise, her father just laughed abruptly.

"April, I used to be a giant bat. My definition of 'shocking' has undergone some serious revision. Besides, give your old man a _little_ credit. Your mother and I were young, once."

April's mouth hung open, and Kirby smirked, taking another sip of wine.

"Yes, _shocking_ as it may seem, we sowed a wild oat or two in our day. You're not exactly inventing the wheel, kid."

"_Ew!" _April cried, involuntarily, "Dad! _Ew!"_

Kirby just laughed. 

"Look," he said, waving a hand, and setting his glass back down, "None of that matters."

He took her hands in his, and smiled reassuringly.

"Are you happy?"

"Yes," April said, squeezing her Dad's hands, "So happy, Dad, you don't even know. We've been hoping, we – we tried once before, but – "

Her throat closed up. She couldn't tell him about their previous attempt, about their loss. She didn't want him to carry that burden. His brow creased in concern, and he seemed about to ask, so she quickly continued.

"I promise, this is exactly what we want."

"Well, that's all that matters to me."

He gathered her into his arms and hugged her fiercely. April felt her eyes get hot – tears always seemed so close to the surface these days.

"My baby is having a baby," he sighed, "I am so, so proud of you."

"Still?" April asked, that one little syllable betraying all her doubt and insecurity.

Kirby kissed her firmly on the forehead, and squeezed her even tighter.

"Always," he murmured, fiercely, "Of _course_ I am, April."

April felt the tears flow in earnest, now, and hugged her Dad tight. She didn't know now why she had been so nervous – of _course_ her Dad would always be there for her, would support her no matter what. He'd walked her down the aisle to marry a six-foot talking _turtle_, hadn't he? She really needed to give him more credit for "rolling with the punches."

"A baby!" he cried, releasing her suddenly, with a wide grin, "My little girl is going to be a Mommy! When are you due? Do you know the gender? Do you _want _to know? Are you taking all your vitamins?"

April grinned, and opened her mouth to reply, when her T-phone went off.

"Ah," she said, "One sec, that'll be Donnie."

She picked it up without even looking.

"Hi, hon."

"Did you tell him?" Donnie asked, without even saying hello.

"Yes," April grinned, making eye contact with her Dad, "Just now."

"And?"

"Thrilled," she reported. Kirby gave her a thumbs up and she giggled, "He was great."

"Then it's good news all around," Donnie said, heaving a sigh of relief, "In fact, _sensei_ is here. He wants to say congratulations."

"Oh, put him on!" April grinned. It felt like a balloon was in her chest, lifting her higher and higher. This couldn't possibly have gone better.

"Okay!" She could hear the smile on his face, even over the phone, "Hold on."

There was a muffled voice and some soft clattering.

"_Moshi moshi_?" The voice was tiny and muffled, as though coming from a great distance.

"Upside down, _sensei_," came Donnie's small, tinny voice. 

April giggled as there were more muffled scraping and clattering noises.

"_Moshi moshi_?"

"I'm here_, sensei_," April replied.

"Ah, April." Splinter's voice was warm with restrained emotion, "Almost twenty years ago, you came into our lives, and it has been spring time for my family ever since."

April blushed, "Aww. _Arigatō__, sensei_."

"Are you feeling well?" he asked, politely.

"Yes. Well, better now," she amended, "It was difficult at first, but Don has been a great help."

"Mm. Yes," Splinter replied, and April could sense his hesitance.

There was an awkward pause, and she knew that he wanted to ask her more. She wondered exactly how much Donatello had explained, and how much Splinter had put together on his own.

"Donatello tells me you are there with your father?"

"Yes," April replied, "Yes, he just got the news also."

She smiled at her father, and he gave her a thumbs-up.

"I would like to say hello, if I may."

Oh. Huh. Well…this could get awkward.

"Sure," she replied, her cheerful smile a bit fixed, now, "Here you go."

She handed the phone to her Dad. "Splinter," she whispered.

"Ah!" Kirby accepted the phone cheerfully. "Hello? Err…_mushy mushy_?"

April rolled her eyes at his pronunciation. Her Dad's Japanese was awful, yet he insisted on trying, which Splinter mostly tolerated with the good grace in which it was offered.

"Yes!" her father laughed, "I know the feeling!"

April strained to hear, but couldn't make out what Splinter was saying. It was maddening.

"Of course. Yes, absolutely," he added, more seriously.

There was a long pause, where he simply nodded and listened. April was dying to know what Splinter was saying.

"I couldn't agree more," Kirby said, and smiled, "Yep. Ab – absolutely. Oh, that sounds _wonderful_, I'd really enjoy that! Thank you! Err, _domo_…uh…_domo_…"

He glanced up at April pleadingly.

"_Arigatō__,_" she mouthed.

"_Domo airy goddo_," he garbled, and gave April a wink. She turned her wince into an encouraging smile.

"Alrighty! You take care, then. Oh? Yes, please, I'd love to!"

There was another pause.

"_Donnieeeeeeee!"_ he sang, and April smiled helplessly to see her father so happy.

"Congratulations, son…Of course! Busting my buttons!...Now stop that – I told you to call me Kirby, this 'Mr. O'Neil' stuff is..."

There was another pause.

"Hah! 'Grandpa.' Well, I like the sound of that. And listen," he added in a conspiratorial tone, "I just want you to know that I _appreciate_ you, Donatello. _Truly_. You make my daughter very happy."

April cringed. Her Dad was doing his awkward, "let's talk about our feelings" voice. She sometimes wondered why he hadn't gone into private practice, opting for research psychology instead. Couldn't have been the pay. Then again, he really did like the lab…something he and Donnie had in common.

"Yeah, she sure is, isn't she?" he added, and beamed lovingly at April. She smiled, warmed by whatever kind nonsense Donnie was probably spouting about her.

"Well, alright then, I'm looking forward to it," Kirby continued, "You be sure and keep us posted, now. Okay then. You want? – okay, here she is."

He handed the phone back to April.

"So…we're okay, then?" Donnie asked, as though he couldn't quite believe their luck.

"Looks like," April smiled.

"I love you so much," Donnie sighed.

"I love you, too."

"This is really happening, huh?" 

"It's happening," April grinned.

Their parents knew, and it was really going to be okay – no more secrets. No more private doubts and fears...

"We're having a baby," Donatello said, his voice beaming with pride.

April's heart skipped a beat.

"A baby?" she teased, "Not 'the embryo'?"

"We're having a _baby_," Donatello said warmly, "It's important to be accurate."

**TMNTtmntTMNTtmntTMNTtmntTMNTtmntTMNTtmntTMNTtmntTMNTtmnt**

April sighed, and ran a hand over her growing bump, eyeing her profile in the hallway mirror. Yep. It was time for stretchy pants, alright.

"Dooooooon?" she called. Hm. No answer.

She stepped on one leg of her jeans and was about to step out of them, when she heard a soft cough.

Her eyes flew open as she discovered Leo sitting patiently on the sofa, waving awkwardly.

"Oh," she said, "Um, hi, Leo. Were we expecting you?" She hastily pulled her shirt down back down over the waistband of her jeans.

"No, sorry," he admitted, sheepishly, "Don's down at the lair, actually, there was an issue with the heat, and he wanted to make sure we were all set before the weekend." 

"Right," April said, shivering as she recalled, "Supposed to get more snow."

"He should be along tonight, it won't take him all that long," Leo reassured, "Actually, I came to give you a gift."

"Oh, really?" April smiled, "You didn't have to do that."

"It's from Master Splinter, really," Leo smiled. He gestured to the coffee table in front of him. April stepped out of the hallway to get a better look, and saw her Japanese tea set all laid out and prepared – it had been a wedding gift from _sensei_. The kettle was sitting on a potholder, the spout steaming gently. Next to it was a small package, wrapped in a red cloth. Leo slid off the couch and sat, lotus position, in front of the table.

"Join me for tea?" he asked, politely, "It's a blend _sensei_ made especially for you - red raspberry leaf, peppermint leaf, and ginger. It's supposed to be good for you and the baby."

April smiled. "That's so thoughtful. Thanks, I'd love to."

She saw he'd already set out a cushion for her. She sat carefully, and tried to surreptitiously unzip her jeans under the table so she could be more comfortable. If Leo noticed, he was polite enough not to mention it.

He smiled, and closed his eyes. Inhaling deeply, he placed both hands together on the table. Exhaling, he inclined his head deeply, until his forehead was almost brushing the back of his hands. Somewhat taken aback, April bowed back. Well, this was…formal. Suddenly, she realized that this was part of the gift.

She watched as Leonardo deftly, precisely set about making the tea. He first took out a cloth, and giving it a smart snap, folded it carefully, as if he were folding a flag, smoothing each fold with tender deliberation. He ritualistically wiped the rim of her cup, even though it was perfectly clean, as she hardly ever used her formal tea set. He then opened the red fabric pouch, and removed several wooden utensils: a small wooden spoon, and a slightly larger wooden ladle, which he laid next to the bamboo whisk from her set. He used the cloth to wipe both of these ceremonially, then snapped it once more, folded it, and put it aside. Taking the small wooden ladle in one hand, he used the other to open the kettle. A small cloud of steam wafted to the ceiling, and a pleasant shiver went down April's spine. He scooped a small amount of steaming hot water into her cup, closed the kettle, and placed the small bamboo whisk in the water, turning and then lifting it, turning and lifting ritualistically, until it was cleansed to his satisfaction. He set the whisk carefully on its handle, and taking her cup in his hands, he tilted it, so the steaming water came right to the rim, just about to spill, but not quite. He slowly began turning the cup in his hands, coating the entire surface with the hot water. Finally, he discarded the water in a pot on the floor.

His motions were so specific, so deliberate – it was hypnotic. April found herself slipping into a meditative state as she watched. It was extremely beautiful, and strangely moving, the specificity he showed in every action, as if to say "Everything must be perfect – only the very best for you."

Reaching into the fabric pouch once again, he removed a small enamel box, and opening it, offered it to her with a smile. She received it with a small bow, and smelled the powder inside – it smelled delicious – minty and spicy. She smiled, and handed it back to Leo, who accepted it back with another small bow. She was tempted momentarily to giggle – this was a lot of formality for the same Leo who fought with Mikey for the last slice of pizza, and still geeked out over reruns of Space Heroes – but she stifled it, knowing how seriously he was taking this, and touched by the care he was putting into it.

Using the small wooden spoon, he carefully added two small scoops of the greenish powder to her cup, and spread it evenly over the bottom. He then carefully scratched some symbols into it, tapped the excess powder off the spoon, and set it carefully aside. He slowly rotated the cup to face April, and she peered at the small _kanji_ he'd written into the powder.

"Family_,_" he translated, with a soft smile.

April smiled, her heart melting for her sweet big brother.

Leo grinned shyly, and returned to the ceremony. Using the wooden ladle, he carefully spooned the scalding water into the teacup, and replaced it deliberately over the kettle, before taking up the whisk, and briskly stirring the tea. The pleasant aroma filled the room. Finally, Leo placed the whisk to the side, on its handle again, and picked up her teacup. He turned it in his hands, formally, and then placed it down in front of her. It was done so gently, she didn't even hear the moment where the porcelain touched the wood. Taking another deep breath, Leo sat back, and bowed one final time.

April returned the bow, and took the cup gingerly, its heat warming her hands. She took a sip…it was good, really good. The tea had been ground so fine it was almost completely dissolved. The mint and raspberry leaf were refreshing and grassy, and the ginger left a pleasant, spicy tingle in her mouth after she swallowed.

"It's delicious," she grinned.

The spell broken, Leo smiled back, and shifted to sit more comfortably.

"Where did Splinter learn this?" she asked, "I mean, he's got four _sons_, I imagine he doesn't whip up a batch of preggo-tea every day."

Leo chuckled wryly, and glanced down at the floor.

"He used to make it for Tang Shen."

April nodded, feeling strangely humbled and nervous the way she always did when Master Splinter's tragic past reared its head. She took another sip.

"I'll bring you more whenever you need it," Leo said, "You should drink a little every day, it's good for you. For both of you," he added, nodding happily at her midriff.

"Well, I doubt I could make it as well as you do," she said, gratefully, "That was awesome."

Leo blushed sheepishly. "It wasn't really a proper ceremony. Not a formal one, anyway. I mean, there's all these specific things you're supposed to do…"

"It was _beautiful,_" April insisted, "What you did…it's a beautiful gift. Thank you. And please thank Master Splinter."

Leo nodded, and they drifted into comfortable silence as April took another sip.

"What you're doing is a beautiful gift, too," Leo said, seriously. April glanced up at the sudden change in tone, and saw that Leo was no longer smiling, was staring at her with the intense look he sometimes got while meditating.

"Um. Thanks," she said, suddenly a bit nervous.

"To be a father, it means…I can't even tell you what it means to Donnie," Leo continued, "I've never seen him so happy. Not ever."

April didn't know what to say, so she just nodded, slowly.

"If…" Leo said, and then looked away as if embarrassed.

What was he about to say? April found herself wishing he'd just spit it out, but at the same time, had a sneaking suspicion it wasn't something she really wanted to hear.

"If things were to…change," he said, slowly, not quite able to meet her eye, "If something changed someday to…take that away from him…"

His blue eyes finally met hers, and she was startled by the intense, piercing, gaze, his eyes slate blue, like a stormy sea.

"It would _ruin_ him," Leo said, firmly, "He would _never_ be the same." 

Ah. There's that other shoe dropping. She felt a chill, despite the hot tea in her stomach.

"And what exactly do you expect to change?" she asked carefully, her voice considerably colder.

Leo looked down, but didn't reply right away.

"Well? You've come this far."

He sighed.

"This…arrangement, with you and Casey," he said, his voice quiet and intense, "You're all grown-ups, and it's none of my –"

"You're _right_," April interrupted, "It _is _none of your bus–"

"But it's _different_ once there's a kid, April," Leo snapped, "That's a game-changer. I mean, what if you just _decide_ one day that life really would be a whole lot easier if – "

"Don't," April warned, holding up a hand.

" - if it was 'just us humans?'" Leo finished.

"How could you say something so _horrible_?" April hissed, "After everything we've been through, Leo, how could you think I would do that to him?"

"Because you've done it before," Leo said, coldly.

April's mouth fell open in shock. Leo had the good grace to look guilty – but he didn't apologize. He just looked away again. April swallowed hard, the taste of ginger going sour in her mouth. 

"I know you love Donnie," April said, her voice deadly quiet, "I know you think you're protecting him right now. I know that this is a weird situation and it scares you. But Donnie is _my_ husband. And as long as he still wants me here, I'm not going anywhere. I don't cut and run. I'm not _Karai_."

Leo's head snapped up, his eyes wide with hurt and surprise.

_"Good,"_ she thought, savagely, though she knew she'd regret it later.

"And God forbid, even if Donnie and I…even if we decided…"

She swallowed hard, unwilling to even say it.

"I would never – _never_ take his childaway from him. I'm not the _Shredder_, either."

"God, April," Leo pleaded, his voice low and earnest, "Please, I would never –"

"You just did."

She started to stand up awkwardly, her center of balance off. Leo sprang smoothly to his feet and offered her a hand up, which she ignored with a glare.

"Thanks for the tea," she said, folding her arms.

Leo sighed forlornly.

"This isn't why I came here tonight."

"Why _did_ you, then?" she snapped, "Who am I even talking to right now? My friend? My brother-in-law? Or is Fearless Leader just rattling his sabers, trying to keep order in the ranks?"

He shook his head sadly.

"It's just me, April," he muttered miserably. "Just Leo."

He turned and showed himself to the window. Once he was crouched out on the fire escape, he faced her again. She inhaled deeply through her nose, braced herself for the parting shot; he _had_ to have the last word, after all.

"So long as it's 'brutal honesty night,'" he said, wryly, "I really do love you, April. I hope you can believe me."

He sighed.

"I just love my brother _more_."

"Well, that makes two of us," she replied, stiffly.

Leo gave a sad little half-smile. "I was kinda hoping you'd say that."

Without waiting for a response, Leo hopped off the fire escape out of view. April crossed to the window and slammed it behind him.

_UGH. _

Now she knew why Raph always wanted to kick his ass.

**TMNTtmntTMNTtmntTMNTtmntTMNTtmntTMNTtmntTMNTtmntTMNTtmnt**

Casey nestled the cardboard six-pack he was clutching into the snow that had drifted up against the gravestone. Brushing the snow off his father's name, he grabbed one for himself, and took a step back, twisting it open with hands numb and red from the cold.

"Hey, old man," he said, and took a swig. It was cold out, too cold for a beer, really, but he didn't mind so much. It made him feel at home, like he was at the rink. He wrapped his scarf a little tighter around his neck with his free hand.

"I guess I shoulda brought flowers," he said, gruffly, "But I figured you'd like this better."

Stupid. This was stupid. Some neighborhood teenagers or some homeless guy would probably show up and take 'em as soon as he left, anyway. But he guessed that wouldn't bother the old man too bad, though. Not like he was really gonna drink 'em.

Well, he could have one at least.

Casey poured the rest of his beer out on the ground. It foamed, and left a soggy puddle in the snow.

"Cheers," he muttered. He slipped the empty bottle back into the cardboard container.

"So I kinda wanted to tell you both at the same time," he said, taking his phone out of his pocket. He scrolled through his contacts until he got to "The Brat," and hit send. He waited as it rang a few times.

"Hello?" a woman's weary voice answered. Casey could hear kids screaming in the background.

"Jordan! Molly!" the woman barked, "Mommy's on the _phone_!"

"Em. It's me."

"Casey?" she replied, "Wow. Long time."

"Yeah," he smiled, "A little while."

"What the hell are you up to these days?"

There was a pause and he could almost hear her scowling.

"You're not in trouble, are you?"

Casey chuckled. "I'm always in trouble."

"Pfft. No sh – _sugar_," she said, "No sugar. _Jordan!_ Leave your sister _alone_, or no Chucky Cheese! I'm sorry, Case, I'm up to my eyeballs, here. Seriously, what is it? You okay?"

"Yeah," Casey said, squinting and pinching the bridge of his nose, "I'm fine, Em. Look, I called you with _good_ news, okay?"

"You got a job?" Emily asked, her voice a little too hopeful.

Casey scoffed, disgruntled. "I _have_ a job."

"A real one, I mean."

"It _is _a real job!"

"Right, bouncing? Or are you still doing part time at the rink? I mean, when you're not tearing around the city in a hockey mask beating up gang bangers?" Emily drawled, "Molly, take that _OUT_ of your mouth. I'm counting to three. One…Two…"

"You know what? Forget it," Casey scowled, "I'll call you later."

"No, you've got news, so tell me," Emily replied. "Where _are_ you? You sound like you're outside."

"I am," Casey replied, "I'm uh…I'm hanging out with Pops."

There was a silent moment on the other line.

"Okay," Emily replied, warily, "You sure everything's alright?"

"Yeah, Em."

"'Cause if you're bleedin' out in a gutter somewhere, I'm –"

He snorted. "I told you, I'm at the – will you just shut up and listen to me?"

"Okay," Emily replied, sounding worried, now, "Okay, Case. You officially have my full attention."

Casey took a deep breath.

"Em…it's April, she's…she's pregnant."

Silence.

"I'm gonna be a father."

Casey grinned, and nodded at Pop's gravestone. It felt good to say it out loud.

"Isn't she…y'know," Em asked, suspiciously, "Married?"

"Well, yeah, I mean – it's not like _that_, though," Casey said, defensively, "I mean, her husband is…look, it's complicated but they're_ happy_ about it."

"Her husband is_ happy_ about this?" Emily repeated, her voice flat with disbelief.

"Yeah," Casey said, defensively, "Yeah, actually, he is. It's like this whole…situation."

"Sure sounds like it," Emily said, dryly.

"And I'm gonna be like, y'know, involved and stuff."

"Wow."

"What, wow?"

"Nothing, just…wow!" she course-corrected to sound more enthusiastic. "Well, okay. Congratulations, Casey."

Casey scowled, "What's yer problem?"

"_What_ problem?"

"You're makin' a face."

"We're on the _phone,_ Case, how am I makin' a face?"

"I can _hear_ you makin' a face," Casey groused, "I thought you'd be happy for me. Y'know, being a grown-up, taking responsibility and stuff."

There was more screaming in the background, and Emily sighed, "I _am_ happy for you, Casey."

"Yeah. Thanks," Casey grumbled.

"Look…it's no walk in the park. It's damn hard work."

"_Ooooo_! Mommy said a _cuss!_"

"Darn," she corrected, with a weary sigh, "It's _darn_ hard work, okay, Jordan?" 

"You think I can't do it?" Casey frowned, "I been a good uncle, haven't I?"

Emily snorted. "Being a good uncle is easy. Being a father is more than showing up every so often with your arms full of toys."

"_Toys?!"_ shrieked a voice in the background.

"_Jordan_," Emily snapped, "I'm talking to your Uncle Casey."

"Caseyyyy!" Molly shrieked, "Caseyyyyyyyyyy!"

"Is he coming over now? Is he bringing toys?!" Jordan hollered, "_HI, UNCLE CASEYYYYY!"_

Casey grinned.

"Hey squirt!" he said louder, hoping Jordan could hear him.

"Don't encourage him," Emily snapped, "He getting a C in Math _and_ History, and if he doesn't get his grades up, I'm sending that game thing _straight_ back to Santa."

She exaggerated this last part, and he could picture her glaring at her oldest. 

"Sorry, sis," Casey smirked, "Santa doesn't take returns."

"Pssh," Emily hissed, "Kid's addicted to that – _darn_ thing."

Casey chuckled.

"Well. I just wanted to tell ya."

He heard her sigh on the other line.

"I'm sorry, Case," she said, sincerely, "I've had a day and half with them, today. I'm really happy for you."

"Thanks, sis," he said.

He knew she was lying, that she thought he'd just gotten himself into another hopeless disaster, but at least she was lying to make him feel better, and that counted for something, right?

"Call you later, okay?"

"Come by," she said, "They wanna see you."

"Come now!" Jordan hollered, "Bring toys!" 

"_JORDAN."_

"Oh _sugar_."

Casey chuckled.

"Later, brat."

"_You're_ a brat. Molly, what did I just say? Spit it _out_."

Casey chuckled, and hung up the phone.

"Yeah, don't really know what I was expecting," he said to the tombstone, "She got weird when she got married and moved out to Jersey. All of sudden she was all…khakis and carpools, and I was just some bum that never made good. But I'm tryin', Pops. I'm tryin' to make good."

He shuffled around in the snow, trying to get feeling back in his toes.

"It's cold as a witch's tit out here."

He sighed, and his breath hung on the air in a little cloud.

"Well. Enjoy the suds. Seeya, Pops."

He turned and made his way out of the graveyard, his boots crunching softly on the snow.

**TMNTtmntTMNTtmntTMNTtmntTMNTtmntTMNTtmntTMNTtmntTMNTtmnt**

April stirred restlessly. She'd been having some kind of crazy anxiety dream but the more she tried to remember it, the more it was slipping away. It seemed like she was being chased, but she couldn't even remember by what, now. She wasn't even sure what had woken her up at first, but then she felt it again – her T-phone was buzzing in her pajama pocket…she must have forgotten about it again. Lucky she hadn't crushed it. If Don had to fix her screen again, she'd never hear the end of it.

She glanced over at Donnie, but he just mumbled incoherently, shifted a bit, and resumed sleeping. He'd been hard at work in the sewers all day – The heat had taken way longer to repair than anticipated, and after a long, hot shower, he'd fallen almost immediately into a deep sleep.

She hadn't mentioned Leo's visit. No reason to upset him.

She carefully worked the phone out of her pocket, and held it low, so the light wouldn't disturb him.

**LeoIchibanTurtle: I'm sorry. That was the anxiety ray talking.**

April shook her head, and sighed. She thumbed a quick response, squinting into the screen's glare in the darkened room.

**Prill-O: now i get y raph wants 2 beat u up all the time. **

She waited a moment, and the phone buzzed again.

**LeoIchibanTurtle: Jealous of my dashing good looks? :P **

She scoffed out loud, and guiltily glanced over her shoulder, making sure Donnie was still sleeping.

**LeoIchibanTurtle: Couldn't be my brains. Really sorry.**

April sighed, and actually took the time to write properly, so he'd know she was taking him seriously.

**Prill-O: I'm sorry, too. I promise, Donnie and I are fine. I'm not going anywhere. You're all stuck with me. K?**

**LeoIchibanTurtle: I know. I'm glad. Don't know why I freak out like that. **

April sighed guiltily, regretting she'd brought up Karai. It had really done a number on Leo when she skipped town. Even if it wasn't rational or fair or kind, she could understand his fears, especially given the bumpy history that she, Donnie, and Casey shared. Leo just didn't want his brother to get hurt. He didn't want _any_ of them to get hurt, felt like it was his job to protect them all…even from each other.

**Prill-O: Because you care.**

April waited, but he didn't text back. Eventually she sighed, settled back down, and was about to put the phone on the nightstand when it buzzed in her hand again.

**LeoIchibanTurtle: So…we're ok?**

She smirked.

**Prill-O: Nope. H8 u forever. **

**LeoIchibanTurtle: Nice.  
><strong>

**Prill-O: Also u smell bad.**

**Prill-O: dishonor on u, dishonor on ur cow, etc. **

**LeoIchibanTurtle: You leave the cow out of this. She's done nothing to you.**

April grinned helplessly, and decided to up the stakes.

**Prill-O: u should probably commit seppuku. restore ur honor, all that samurai crap. **

**LeoIchibanTurtle: Well that escalated quickly.**

**Prill-O: sorry, only ritual suicide can slake my bloodlust. u understand.**

**LeoIchibanTurtle: Darn. I seem to have left my katana in my other shell.**

**Prill-O: Excuses, excuses.**

**LeoIchibanTurtle: Have located plastic fork. Goodbye cruel world.**

**Prill-O: Points for creativity. Go fork urself. Hurrr**

**LeoIchibanTurtle: Classy.**

**Prill-O: u dead yet or what?**

**LeoIchibanTurtle: No, this just tickles.**

April wondered, in amusement, if he was actually lying there poking himself with a plastic fork.

**Prill-O: oh well, its the thought that counts.**

There was a slightly longer pause. Had he gone to bed? She hadn't really hurt his feelings, right?

**LeoIchibanTurtle: I really am sorry. **

April sighed.

**Prill-O: I know, Leo. Me too.**

**LeoIchibanTurtle: Guess I forked up. **

**Prill-O: …**

**LeoIchibanTurtle: :D**

**Prill-O: Go to bed.**

**LeoIchibanTurtle: Love you. **

**Prill-O: :::swoon::: senpai noticed**

**LeoIchibanTurtle: Really.**

**Prill-O: ilu2, dork. put the phone down and GTB!**

**LeoIchibanTurtle: Ok, Mom.**

April smirked, rolling her eyes, and silenced her phone for the night. She was still a little sore, and knew he was probably still sore about her dropping the "K" bomb, but the stupid banter was as good as waving a white flag, a tacit agreement to just let this one slide. She was glad - she hated fighting with Leo. They usually got on really well, so it was a rare occurrence, and it always left her feeling uneasy. Rolling over, she snuggled up to Donnie and draped a leg over him. He inhaled sharply, and groaned.

"Can't," he muttered, "can't mix…Mikey...put it down…"

"It's okay," April whispered, "Go back to sleep."

"You gotta…read the labels," Don replied, blearily.

"I will," April soothed, "I promise."

He sighed, satisfied, and drifted back to sleep. She kissed his shoulder lightly, and settled in. She liked the feel of her bump pressed gently against his cool, firm shell. Though she'd probably wake up with weird patterns all over herself again. If she was honest with herself, she kinda liked that. She smiled to herself, and slowly nodded off as well. 


	8. Chapter 8

"Why doesn't she ever kick for me?" Donnie scowled, his cheek pressed firmly to April's belly.

"She will," April said, stroking Don's head idly, "We're resting right now."

"She's practicing her ninja stealth," Leo chimed in from his place at the grill, "Runs in the family."

Casey snorted. "Dun't get it from me. I was never what ya'd call 'stealthy.'"

This got a general chuckle from his comrades-in-arms. Casey was great in a brawl, but subtlety was not really in his lexicon.

"I was referring to April?" Leo smirked, "You know, the _kunoichi_?"

"Oh. Heh. Right," Casey said, wilting as April arched an eyebrow his way, "Sorry, toots."

"_Toots?"_

"Keep diggin'," Raph muttered under his breath.

Leo called over his shoulder as he gave the burgers their final flip: "Hey toots – Yes, cheese? No, cheese?"

"Yes, cheese, and don't _you_ start."

"I was referring to Casey," Leo smirked.

"Oh, very funny. And yeah, gimme cheese."

"I know Mikey wants cheese."

"Affirmative, bro!"

"Splinter yes, Raph no, me no, Casey yes, so that's…uh…wait, who am I missing?"

"Me," Don replied, head still resting on April's considerable bump, "Four with, three without, Leo."

"Thanks, Donnie."

"Just don't give me any of your lousy hockey pucks by mistake," Raphael drawled, basking in the last rays of sunset.

"Hey," Casey said, whacking him on the arm playfully, "That rabbit food is an insult to hockey pucks."

"Har, har," Leo replied, adding cheese to some of the burgers, "Remind me, how did the lone vegetarian get stuck being Grillmaster?"

"Mikey got bored and went 'swimming,'" Raphael replied, adjusting the position of his head on his forearms.

"Hey!" Mikey protested from the pool, "I had to! I can't swim _after _we eat!"

"I don't really think that counts, Mikey," said Donatello.

It was July fourth, and they were gathered on the roof of Casey's building, enjoying some barbecue while they waited for dark and the subsequent fireworks. The big ones on the Hudson were pretty far away, but even from a distance, it was still more fun seeing them live than just watching on TV. Plus, the neighborhood kids would be sending bottle rockets up for hours, and that was fun, too.

Early in Spring, they'd installed some fencing along two sides of the rooftop, and planted ivy to grow along it, so they'd have a little privacy. So long as the guys stayed away from the edge of the building, they were mostly invisible to surrounding neighbors.

They had a spread a huge picnic blanket, where Raph was currently sprawled, listening to the radio and soaking up the last of the dying sun, and where Casey was mostly ignoring his dog-eared copy of "What to Expect: The First Year." Leo was manning the grill, while Mikey was flopped in an inflatable kiddie pool with an iced tea and a silly straw, his legs spilling out over the side. Splinter was seated nearby in a lawn chair, dipping his furry feet in the precious real estate of the kiddie pool not claimed by Michaelangelo's bulk.

April was stretched out on a plastic chaise lounge wearing a yellow bikini top and her maternity shorts while Donnie sat on the cooler next to her, draping himself over her swollen belly, determined to feel the baby kick. 

"You know the minute I sit up, she's going to start again," Donnie groused.

"She's a stubborn lil' peanut," Casey grinned, "Who _knows_ where she gets that from?"

"Okay, enough, get off me," April said, pushing Donnie aside, "It's too damn hot for this. Why the hell did we time this so I'd be enormous in July?"

Sulking, Donatello sat up again, and pointed a finger at April's belly.

"I've got my eye on you, missy. You can't hide in there forever."

"Seriously," April agreed, "Four months to go and I'm already drafting her eviction notice."

"For who, you mean Penelope?" Mikey asked, innocently.

"No," Donnie replied, wearily.

"Josephine? Meghan? Olive? Tiffany?"

"NO, Mikey, we still haven't picked yet."

"Brandy? Alexis? I got a million of 'em."

"We'll take it under advisement, Dr. Name-enstein."

"Four months. I can't believe how fast it went," Leo remarked, transferring the burgers to a paper plate.

"For you, maybe," April teased, "You don't have somebody kicking your bladder every five minutes."

"Pfft. I _wish_, every five minutes," Donnie groused.

"Really, Don?" April asked, with a sidelong glance, "Do you?"

"Heh heh…see, what I _meant_ was…"

The song on the radio changed, and Casey suddenly sprang up from the picnic blanket, tossing the baby book aside.

"Alright, move over, amateurs, I'ma show you how this is done."

"What, eating burgers?" Mikey asked, salivating as Leo started setting out plates and putting a bun on each one.

"Nope. Watch the Master at work."

Casey crouched down and turned up the radio. Cheerful, tinny samba music rang out over the rooftop, and he reached for April's hand.

"Nooooo," April whined, though she was grinning, "It's too hoooot."

But she was already dragged halfway to her feet, and Casey was doing a weird, wiggly, somewhat embarrassing dance, and it made her laugh. Don was aware of his brothers' eyes nervously darting towards him, checking in – but he just smiled and watched. Pregnancy didn't really agree with someone as active and independent as April, and between those awful early days and the expected aches, pains, fatigue, night sweats, cravings, and thousand other discomforts inherit to incubating a human for nine months – it was just good to see her smiling and laughing.

Casey put his hands on her hips and tried to make her shake. He grinned, and leaned down to address her bump.

"_Shake, shake, shake, señora, shake yo' body line; work, work, work, señora…"_

"Hey!" Leo interjected, as Casey stepped on a hamburger bun.

"Man down," Raph mumbled, idly moving his arm out of the way just before Casey's other foot could find it.

"Big finish!" Casey said, grabbing April's arm and twirling it above her head, trying to get her to spin.

"Woah! Okay," April giggled, "Casey, not so – woah, _CASEY_ – "

She stumbled a bit, and Casey gave her a gentle push towards Donnie. Everyone was instantly on high alert, but of course, Donnie was already there, his arms wrapped protectively around April.

"Woah!" April giggled, getting her feet under her, "Thanks, Donnie."

"Are you _kidding_ me?" Donnie snapped, glaring at Casey, one arm around April's shoulders, the other protectively around her waist, "She could have - "

Suddenly he stopped in mid-rant, eyes wide as saucers. Casey just smirked.

Donnie dropped to his knees where he was and pressed his cheek to April's belly again, an expression of awe stamped on his face. Donnie usually smiled a wry, lop-sided grin, trying not to show the gap in his teeth…but he was apparently unaware, or unable to stop the broad, goofy grin on his face.

"See?" Casey quipped, and sank back down to the picnic blanket, "You want a girl to like ya, ya gotta take her dancin'."

"Hey," Donnie murmured softly, his eyes wide, "Hey, in there."

"Ow. Aaaand now I have to pee again," April sighed, smiling down at Donnie's expression. 

"Hey, you," Donnie cooed, lost in his own world, "That's a pretty good kick for a beginner." He planted a kiss on April's belly. "Remember, keep your core tight." 

"Aww! I wanna turn!" Mikey lurched out of the kiddie pool, spilling water everywhere.

"Aw, man!"

Leo and Casey grabbed as many of the plates off the picnic blanket as possible and lifted them up. Mikey tripped over Raph's head and dripped cold water on him, eliciting a low growl, before flopping down across from Don and pressing his head to April's belly also.

"Ooo, you're nice and cold," April sighed.

"I'm a pretty cool guy," Mikey agreed, "Woah, that's awesome! She's totally doing the cha cha!"

"Anyone else wanna climb on?" April sighed, "There's some real estate over by my belly button that hasn't been claimed yet."

"I'll wait my turn," Leo grinned, adding burgers to the non-trampled, non-soggy buns, "Time to eat anyway. Mikey, why don't you grab the potato salad out of the cooler?"

But as he spoke, Master Splinter stood carefully and stepped out of the kiddie pool, crossing to April. Seeing him coming, both Donnie and Mikey made way for him, and April took a step or two closer, so he wouldn't have to walk so far. Leaning heavily on his stick for support, he slowly lowered himself to one knee, and suppressed a slight cough before leaning forward and placing his claws gently on April's belly, a contented smile on his face.

"Mmmm," he rumbled deep in his chest. He smiled serenely.

"You feel her kicking,_ sensei_?" Donnie prompted, cheerfully, "That's a good, strong kick, right?"

"I told ya," Casey smirked, "She ain't kickin', she's dancin'."

Sensei lifted his head and smiled tenderly at April's belly.

_"Watashitachi no Miwa wa odoru no ga daisuki."_

"Aww," April smiled, turning to Donnie, "What did he say?"

There was an awkward silence as the brothers shared glances.

"Um," Donnie said quietly, "Tell ya later."

"Right," Raph muttered, rising to a seated position, "_That's_ not creepy."

"_Sensei,_ why don't you have a seat?" Leo suggested, gently, "It's time to eat."

The joy that Donnie had felt a second ago was joined by an uneasy flip-flopping in his gut. "You guys didn't tell me," he hissed quietly.

"You ain't been _around_," Raph shot back, unkindly.

"Hey." Leo glared a warning at his brother.

"What's going on?" April whispered, elbowing Donnie gently.

"_Later,"_ he hissed.

Leo's expression became softer, almost pleading as he turned to Donnie, "He's not always – it's worse when he's hungry. And it's probably almost time for his –"

"Mikey," Raph said gruffly, "Beer me."

Mikey glanced guilty at the cooler. He only hesitated for a fraction of a second, but it was too late, Raph had noticed.

"Ooo, Raph's havin' a beer on the Fourth of July," he intoned, sarcastically, "Let's all give each other meaningful looks."

"Don't be a jerk," Casey said lightly, giving Raph a half-hearted punch on the shoulder, which Raph returned a bit too quickly and a bit too hard.

"_Yame!_" Splinter ordered, and Raph and Casey obeyed, with guilty expressions.

"We'll talk about this later," Donnie muttered quietly to Leo, not really succeeding in masking his annoyance.

"Looking forward to _that_," Leo sighed, passing him a plate with a burger on it. 

"Well, I don't know how you expect me to _treat_ him if you don't _tell _me all of the pertinent – "

"Huh, 'later' already?" Raph muttered, "Time sure flies when you're havin' fun."

Grumpily, he stuck his hand out at Mikey expectantly. Mikey gave a pained smile that didn't reach his eyes, reached into the cooler, and passed Raph a can of beer.

"Let's just try to make itback to the lair tonight, hmm?" Leo grumbled, as Raph popped the can tab, "Y'know, for a change of pace."

"Or, we could try minding our own business, hmm?" Raph said, with that light, dangerous tone that belied the growing outburst simmering beneath, "Y'know – for a '_change of pace_.'"

"_Itadakimasu_," Splinter said, accepting his burger from Leo and sinking slowly to the picnic blanket, lotus style.

"_Itadakimasu_," they all agreed in relief, settling in to eat. 

"Good job, Leo," Mikey said, taking another big bite, "Nife'n joofy."

"_Oishī__,_" Splinter agreed.

Leo smiled warmly at his father. April studied the delight and relief in Leo's face – he was _thrilled _that Splinter was eating. She glanced back to Splinter, trying to see if he looked any different…it was hard with the robe and the fur, but yes, he did seem somehow smaller, slighter…Had his muzzle always been that gray? She immediately felt guilty, realized just why Leo had seemed so stressed lately; how had it gotten this bad, and she hadn't noticed?

"Glad you like it, _sensei_." Leo said, finally taking a bite of his veggie burger.

The rest of the evening was much less eventful. They enjoyed the fireworks, had some s'mores that Mikey made over the dying coals, and let him crack jokes until the mood was a bit lighter. Soon it was time to say good night. Raph had either felt guilty, or decided to prove Leo wrong, or both, because he only drank three beers and was more than able to help Leo and Mikey get Splinter safely down the fire escape and into the sewers. April and Donnie helped Casey douse the grill, and bring the leftovers into the kitchen.

"You guys crashin?" Casey asked, "I could take the couch?..."

"Nah, sorry," Donnie replied, bumping knuckles with Casey, "You don't have AC, right?"

"I got the window unit over there," Casey said, face falling a bit, "But I only got the ceiling fan in the bedroom."

"Yeah, she needs it like a meat locker," Donnie confided, "Which is fun when you're a turtle. Fourth of July and I'm wearing socks and mittens all night."

They chuckled together.

April emerged from the bathroom, the sound of running water behind her.

"I swear, every five minutes," she groused, "This kid is working my last nerve."

"Soon, hon," he promised, "Won't – "

"Be long, now," April finished, grumpily, "That's what you were gonna say, right?"

She sighed, then smiled and gave Casey a peck on the cheek.

"Thanks, Jones, this was fun."

"Any time," Casey said, relishing the feel of her in his arms. He longed to give her a proper kiss, but wanted to be respectful. He and Donnie kinda tried to keep a lid on that stuff when they were all together.

"Hon, I'm just gonna duck out ahead," Donnie said smoothly, "Do a quick sweep of the alley. Bye, Case."

Before either of them could reply, he had vanished.

"He didn't have to do that," Casey said, feeling embarrassed.

April smiled. "He always puts others first."

"Still," Casey said, hesitating.

April smiled, and caressing Casey's cheek, brought him in for a long, lazy kiss. She still tasted a bit like chocolate and marshmallows. Her body fit strangely against his, so different from what he was used to, but it was oddly exciting. Plus, her tits were fantastic these days. I mean, he'd always been a fan, but – damn.

"Mm."

Casey grinned at her goofily as she pulled away, any guilty objections forgotten.

"G'nite, Jones."

He watched her waddle her way down the hall. It was actually pretty damn cute.

He sighed heavily, locked the door behind her, and glanced down at his right hand in chagrin.

"Looks like it's you and me, kid." 

April stepped out into the alley, fishing the keys out of her pocket. Casey lived in a pretty rough neighborhood, and normally she'd feel a bit nervous, but she also knew that –

"Hey, hon."

She still started, even knowing who it was, even expecting him to appear.

"Man, you're good," she sighed, "I'll _never _be that good."

"You are! You will!" Donnie soothed, leaping down from the wall above her, and putting a hand lightly around her waist, "You just haven't been able to practice lately."

"Yeah, a pregnant ninja," April chuckled, patting her belly, "Could you even imagine? I can't even do the stairs without getting winded."

"Well, you've got some reduced lung capacity," Donnie reassured, "Gotta make room for the Peanut."

"You didn't have to do that, you know," April said, bumping into him gently, "Duck out, like that."

He grinned, shyly, "I didn't mind. I don't mind it so much anymore."

April smiled, reached under his shell and gave his butt a little pat. Donnie giggled that nerdy little laugh that April loved so much.

They reached the van and climbed in, Donnie crouching between the two bucket seats, so he'd be slightly more out of view.

"I don't know why we got this thing," April said, firing it up, "It doesn't make sense to have a car in New York."

"It does when we're making trips out here to visit Casey," Donnie replied, "I can't exactly take mass transit. And this way, we get to ride together. What else would we do? We can't just commandeer the party wagon whenever we want."

"I'll remind you that was my Dad's van," April smirked.

"Heh. Right. Well, what's a little grand theft auto between friends? _Anyway_, we need a way to get up to the farmhouse, or out to Jersey, if you and Casey want to visit Emily."

"I really wish he would just tell her about you guys," April frowned, eyes on the road, "Especially you. I'm starting to get a little offended, to be honest."

Donnie just shook his head.

"Most people aren't as understanding as you, April. We would probably just upset her."

She sighed. "I guess. You'd think people would have gotten more open-minded after the Kraang invasion. I mean, millions of New Yorkers were mutated themselves, and they still can't handle seeing a mutant?"

"That's_ why_ they can't handle it," Donnie replied, sadly, "There's more fear now than ever. You remember how your Dad was. He's still recovering." 

April shuddered. "He's a lot better," she said in a small voice.

"Oh, I didn't – of course he is," Donnie said, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. April smiled again, and nuzzled his hand with her cheek, still keeping her eyes on the road.

"So what did Splinter say before that freaked everyone out so much?" she asked.

"Oh. That," Donnie scowled, "He uh…he said 'Our little Miwa loves to dance.'"

April's eyes widened. "Woah."

"Yeah."

Her heart sank sadly for her poor husband, and her poor brothers. "Is it…what do you think it is?"

Donnie sighed.

"Seeing as I only just learned about this _today_," he said, a grating edge in his voice, "I really can't make a diagnosis. Thanks, Leo."

"Don't be too hard on him," April said, gently, "He knows we're focused on the baby right now, he just didn't want to worry you."

"He's my father, too," Donnie said, stubbornly, "Leo thinks it's his job to protect everybody from the truth. I never thought I'd agree with Raph about anything, but it's pretty damn arrogant. Watch this guy."

"I see him."

"He's not looking – "

"I _see_ him," April said, testily. They lapsed into silence again briefly.

"Y'know there's probably some denial going on there, too," she continued, "You know how Leo worshipped him. It's got to be difficult seeing his hero like that."

"It is," Donnie said, stiffly.

April sighed.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," she said, "I know it's hard."

Donnie sighed, remembering that April had lost her mother at such a young age. How did people deal with this? Unlike April, who had her Dad, and her aunt, Splinter was all the family they _had_. He'd been father _and_ mother _and_ _sensei_ to them all…he didn't even want to imagine the day he wouldn't be there anymore…with a shudder, he thought back to those awful days just after the Kraang invasion, when they thought they'd lost him for good. He realized, with a slow, creeping horror, that that day they truly would lose him for good was probably not as far off as they all liked to pretend.

"Hey," April said, gently, "It'll be okay. We'll get through this. As a family."

Donnie sighed, and leaned forward to kiss his wife on the shoulder.

"You're right."

"Just…always tell him how much you love him," April said, and Donnie could hear the way her voice got a bit stuck, knew that she was fighting a lump in her throat. "That's the worst part - not being able to tell them anymore."

"You can still tell her," Donnie said, gently patting her arm.

April snorted. "Come on, Donnie, I know you don't believe in that stuff."

"I don't," Donnie agreed, carefully, "But I also know that I don't know everything. I've seen some pretty unbelievable stuff."

He smiled, and kissed her shoulder again, murmuring against her freckled skin.

"I'm married to some pretty unbelievable stuff."

April smiled. He could see her face reflected dimly in the windshield as a street light passed overhead.

"You smoothie. You tryin' to get some?"

"You can still talk to her…Whether she hears you or not, it'll make you feel better," he continued, ignoring her flirtation, "And who knows? Maybe she does. _There are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy_."

He kissed her shoulder again and gave it a little nibble.

"And yes, please," he added.

"Yes, please?"

"On the getting some. If you're feeling alright."

April giggled, and then sighed.

"I don't know how you could possibly still be interested. I'm like a beached whale." 

"Yes, but you're _my _beached whale."

"You're not supposed to _agree_, you jerk!"

"My sexy, stranded Cetacean. My life's porpoise."

"So if we do it," April quipped, "Does that make me a _humpback_ whale?"

"I like where your head's at. Here, let's make you feel more at home."

April giggled helplessly, trying to keep the van on the road as Donnie made whale noises at her, nibbling on her neck and shoulders.

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"For the last time, April, it's not _safe_!"

"It's_ perfectly_ safe!" April retorted hotly, "Women have been giving birth at home for thousands of years!"

"They've been _dying_ at home for thousands of years, too!" Donnie shot back, "Not to _mention _the increased risk of infection, peri- and neonatal mortality rates – "

"It's not your decision, Don!"

"Well I _think _I'm at least entitled to a _say_ in the matter!"

"You've _had_ your say, and I _disagree_, that's what happening here."

"The American Academy of Pediatrics – "

"_Ugggggh_."

"_And _the American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists concur that the safest place for delivery –

"Is the _HOSPITAL_, I heard you the first eight _thousand_ times, Donatello!"

"Oof. Full name," Casey said from the couch, "Harsh."

"Will you please contribute something useful here?" Donnie barked, "What do I know, I'm just the stupid _husband_. Maybe she'll listen to you."

"Hey, don't do that," April shot back, "That's _cheap_."

She and Casey had just gotten home from the hospital. It was a blustery September day, about one month too early – but she had started getting contractions at work, and called them both in a panic. A trip to the hospital revealed it to be a false alarm – "Braxton Hicks," they said. But April had been rattled, and wanted to change her birth plan.

"I gotta say, Red," Casey ventured timidly, "I'm with Donnie on this one."

Donatello gestured emphatically at Casey, raising his brow at April. She scowled furiously and folded her arms.

"Babies are born in the hospital. They do it that way for a reason, right?"

"_Thank_ you," Donnie said.

"Golly, I sure am lucky to have so many strong, intelligent men to make all my decisions," April hissed.

"Here we go," Casey groaned, leaning back and pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes.

"April, please," Donnie pleaded, switching tactics, "Unattended home births have _three times_ the –"

"I won't be 'unattended!' I'll have you!"

"I'm not an _obstetrician_, April!" Donnie shouted, spreading his hands, "I'm not even a _doctor_!"

"You're as good as!"

"_What?!_ April, there's no such thing as '_good as!_' I haven't been to med school, I haven't done a residency, I have _never_ delivered a baby before, and – "

"You treat your whole family!"

"Because _we don't have a CHOICE_!" Donnie cried.

He stomped his foot in frustration. One of their picture frames on the desk wobbled in place, then tipped over, the glass cracking as it hit the ground.

"Real nice. Good going,_ Raph_," April spat in annoyance.

Donnie huffed heavily through his nose, pinching his tear ducts with his thumb and forefinger, trying to compose himself. April suddenly realized in part why he was getting so upset, and cursed inwardly at her foolishness, giving him a minute to compose himself..

Don had argued vehemently for sneaking Splinter into a hospital. He had been able to rule out hyperthyroidism and medication side effects with simple blood tests in the lair's lab, but he needed to know whether Splinter's confusion and forgetfulness were the onset of Alzheimer's, multi-infarct dementia caused by mini-strokes, or possibly even a brain tumor. But in order to rule these things out, and determine a course of treatment, he needed to do a CAT scan, maybe even an MRI if they could swing it – things that were simply beyond the lair's capacity – beyond _his_ capacity.

He and Leo had outlined a detailed plan, selecting which hospital had the equipment they needed, which would be the most vulnerable, and at what time; when there would be the least personnel, plans for distractions to secure their privacy…once they got in, that was only half the battle. Don simply wasn't trained in operating these machines, or interpreting their results. Raph came up with the idea to raid local drug dealers, and use the ill-gotten cash to bribe the necessary technicians…or some broke, desperate med students.

It was risky – too risky, truth be told, full of dangerous variables and "what ifs." But Donnie had campaigned hard for it – all to no avail. Splinter had firmly put his foot down the minute he heard it, refused to even entertain the idea, refused to allow them to risk capture and detection for his sake. He placidly told them old age was something to accept with grace and dignity…that he refused to trade a few extra years for their safety – refused to preserve his mind at the expense of his _peace_ of mind. Donnie had argued until he was blue in the face, but finally Splinter had snapped that he was dismissed, and Leo dragged him away, knowing it was futile.

Besides, Leo had tried to explain to a heartbroken Donnie, even if it _was _something like a brain tumor – would knowing even help? What could they honestly do about it? Kidnap a brain surgeon and drag him down into the sewers? He was trying to be comforting, but it was anything but – it only made it worse.

Now here was April, with all the privilege of being _able_ to go to the hospital, arguing with him that she didn't want to. Knowing that he couldn't be everything his family needed, now she was asking him to be everything she needed, too. She could see why he was getting so frustrated – but it didn't change what she wanted.

"Look, even if I _was_ a real doctor," Donnie said, trying to keep his voice even, "There's a reason you don't deliver your own kid! What if you develop preeclampsia, hm? Or what if you need a Caesarian?"

"Bite your tongue," April scolded.

"Do you really think I could cut into you?" Donnie asked, putting his fists on his hips, "Do you really think I could perform emergency _surgery_, on my own _wife_, with _no_ equipment, in our _bedroom_? Does that sound like a solid plan to you? Is that really a reasonable thing to ask when you have every other opportunity?"

There was a brief silence, as April could think of no good reply. Her eyes welled and sparkled, knowing she was defeated.

"I want you to _be_ there," she said, in a small voice.

Donnie sighed, deflating like a balloon.

"C'mere," he said, pulling her into his arms. He gave her a kiss on the head. 

"I want to be there, too," Donnie murmured soothingly into her hair, "Of _course_ I do. But I want you to be safe even more. And Casey will be there! Right, Case?"

"Wherever, whenever," Casey promised, leaning over the back of the couch, "You call me, I'm there."

"But it isn't _fair_," April said, in a small voice, breaking out of his grip and wiping away her tears of frustration.

"I know it isn't, honey" Donnie sighed, "But it's the smart thing to do."

"And you can honestly tell me that you're not going to resent it?" April said, putting her hands on her hips, and staring at Donatello searchingly, "You're just going to sit here at home with your brothers, knowing that I'm in pain and there's nothing you can do about it? Knowing that Casey is going to be the first one to see her, first one to _hold _her? That's not going to be the _first_ thing on your mind when you finally get to see her?"

Donnie looked into her eyes, and took a breath – but couldn't reply. He glanced over at Casey, and then looked down in defeat.

"Hey," April said, putting a hand on his arm, "It's okay. _Nobody _is that selfless. You're only human."

Donatello snorted at the irony and turned away.

"I could like…bring a phone in with me?" Casey offered, lamely. They didn't even reply, and he looked away, dejectedly. It wasn't even close to an adequate solution.

"What does it mean to be a father?" Donnie asked, quietly. April and Casey blinked at each other in confusion.

"Um. You askin' me?" Casey replied, uncomfortably.

"Either of you," Donnie said, turning back to face them, "What would you say is a father's primary responsibility?"

"To love their child," April replied, "Love them and take care of them."

"And provide for them," Casey added pensively, thinking of his own Pops, gone for almost twenty years, now. "You know like – protect them. Put them first."

"Exactly," Donnie said quietly, "It's not about what's _fair_, or how we _wish _it was different…it's about putting your children first. Doing what's best for them, not what's best for yourself. Protecting them. Giving them their best chance."

Silence stretched out, April weighed Donnie's words. Casey worked his fingers over the weave of the sofa fabric nervously.

"Fine," April said, finally. Her voice sounded weary, and she pushed her bangs out of her face, "Fine. On one condition."

She turned to face Casey, her face sad and apologetic.

"Neither of you can be there."

"What?" Donnie said, his face a picture of alarm, "That's not what I – "

"You need _someone_ there, Red," Casey said, heart thumping in his chest, "To help, and to make decisions and stuff, y'know. Just in case."

"He's right," Donnie added, quickly, "That's right."

"I'll ask my Dad. He'll be with me."

"Hon, that's not fair to Casey."

"It's not _fair_ to anybody!" April shouted, wiping her face again, "But if it's got to be unfair, it can at least be _equally_ unfair."

Casey's heart sank, and he made eye contact with Donnie. Donnie looked miserable and guilty, but that didn't really make it any better.

"You want me in the hospital, those are my terms, take it or leave it."

Donnie sighed heavily.

"Your call, Casey," he said, folding his arms, and looking away.

Casey sighed, heavily.

"Fine," he said, tersely, "That's just how it is. At least it's safe."

"Casey, I'm so –

"I get it," he said, tersely, "I don't like it, but I get it. Maybe…once it gets quiet, though?"

"Of course," April said, hurriedly, "Dad can keep you all updated, and as soon as we've got some privacy, you can sneak in…Heck, bring all the guys. That way everyone can meet her together."

"What do you think," Casey added to Donnie, warming up to the idea, "Repel down from the roof?"

"Well,_ you_ can just walk right in," April reminded him, "But yeah, that'd work. I'm sure the guys can figure it out."

She grabbed a stack of brochures off the kitchen counter.

"I can call around, some of these 'birthing centers' have these fancy 'private birthing suites,'" April offered, "They're kinda posh, so it's more expensive, but we'd definitely have more privacy. Look, this one's located on its own floor, right _in _the hospital."

"Hmm," Donnie said, the wheels in his head turning, "If we're breaking in anyway, maybe I can convince Master Splinter to…"

April placed a hand on his wrist, gently, and Donnie sighed. He'd never go for it.

"Yeah," he said, dully, "Okay, let's check it out."

"I'm gonna call my Dad now," April said, pressing the brochure into Donnie's hands gently, "Maybe you could give these guys a call and ask some questions…Case, can you call Dr. Patel back and ask her if she works with this hospital?"

"On it," Casey replied, taking out his T-phone. Donnie sighed, and did the same, as April headed off to the bedroom to talk to her Dad, and Casey started dialing.

Donnie sighed. It wasn't perfect, but what ever was? He felt badly for Casey, but at least he'd finally convinced April to go to a hospital.

If only he could've done the same for his father. 


	9. Chapter 9

Donatello sat forward on the lair's couch, his elbows resting on his knees, tented fingers pressed against his lips. He stared at the T-phone on the table in front of him intensely, willing it to ring. Behind him, Casey was pacing back and forth, back and forth.

"Dude," Mikey said, softly, "Do you want next game?"

He gently poked Donnie in the arm with the game controller. Donnie smiled gently, not taking his eyes off the phone and shook his head.

"Yer not gonna make the phone ring just staring at it," Raph said, stating the obvious "Might as well relax."

"Could _you_ relax, Raph?" Leo drawled. He was sitting at the kitchen table – he had just sharpened and polished his katana, and then oiled the leather grips, and once that was done, he decided to sharpen his shuriken and then once that was done he figured why not do everyone's shuriken, and Mikey's _kusarigama_, and check all their knee pads and elbow pads for tears, and so on and so on until a small arsenal was piled on the kitchen table in front of him.

"Whatsit _look_ like I'm doin'?" Raph snapped, waving the controller around. He turned back to Donnie. "C'mon. You can be Mario."

"It's fine," Donnie smiled, "I'll just watch."

"Watch the phone, you mean," Raph grumbled.

"I'm in. I'll play," Casey said, and leapt easily over the back of the couch, landing haphazardly next to Mikey and grabbing the remote out of his hands. "If I don't do something I'm gonna lose my mind."

He hit start and there was the sound of cheerful music and MarioKarts revving their engines. Suddenly, the shoji screen snapped open, and Splinter poked his head out suspiciously. They all turned to look at him.

"Did I hear the phone?"

"No, _sensei_," Leo said, sharpening the tines of yet another throwing star, "It's a video game."

"Mmm." Splinter scowled at the television like it owed him money.

The shoji screen snapped closed again.

"'_Meditating_,'" Raph muttered, "Right."

Raph beat Casey easily – Casey couldn't even stay on the track. He kept taking his eyes off the screen to glance at Donnie's phone. As soon as he won the race, Raph sighed in annoyance, threw down the controller, flung himself to the floor, and started doing push ups without explanation or preamble.

"Anyone hungry?" Mikey asked, a bit too loudly, "Because I was gonna make some popcorn I know we had dinner but I thought popcorn is light I guess and it's easy to make I'm not really all that hungry just kinda snackish but I figure hey why not right who doesn't like popcorn so who wants? Popcorn."

He stood, ready to spring into action and make the _hell_ out of that popcorn – but received no reply.

"No? 'Kay."

He sat back down, hugged his chest, and started bouncing his knee.

"Yer shakin' the whole couch," Casey muttered. Raph grunted softly, still doing push-ups.

"Dude! I can't help it!" Mikey wailed, "I'm – "

But Donnie's T-phone finally went off. The shoji screen snapped open again, Raph scrambled up from the floor, and the kitchen chair squealed against the floor as Leo hurried over. Casey quickly muted the TV as Donnie accepted the call and put it on speaker.

"Mr. O'Neil?" he asked, tensely. 

A tremulous wail filled the room, and Donnie inhaled sharply. Everyone leaned forward towards the phone.

"There's someone here who'd like to say hello," Mr. O'Neil said, his voice shaky, "Can you hear her?"

The infant wailing flowed through the T-phone like strange, beautiful music; the most fascinating, delightful song, coaxing broad, mystified smiles from all of them.

"Hello?" Kirby asked, suddenly anxious, "Can you hear me?"

"Yes!" Donnie and Casey shouted together, breaking the spell. Words suddenly flooded to the forefront, fighting to be first.

"April," Donnie demanded, "Is she okay?"

"She's great," Kirby said, "She was perfect. Just perfect."

"The baby's okay?" Casey asked.

"What was her APGAR?" Donnie added, hurriedly.

"Eight at one minute, perfect ten at the five minute mark," Kirby replied, "She's beautiful. Just…a perfect little angel."

"_Fuckin' A!"_ Raph bellowed, punching Casey on the arm, then immediately covered his mouth in embarrassment at Splinter's glare, "Sorry! Sorry, Mr. O'Neil."

"Hello, Raphael," Kirby drawled.

"April, can we – can she talk?" Donnie asked.

"Hold on, she's right here."

There was a brief rustling on the phone, and then they heard April's gravelly, weary voice.

"Hi, guys."

"_April!"_ Donnie cried, "Apr – "

But he couldn't continue – he pressed a shaking hand to his mouth.

"Don?" April asked, "Sweetie?"

"He's here," Casey grinned, clapping Donnie on the shoulder, "We're all here."

"Hey, you," April said. They could hear the tender smile in her voice, despite her fatigue.

"Hey, you," Casey replied warmly. "You okay, Red?"

"I am now," April replied hoarsely, "That was…interesting."

Casey chuckled wryly.

"Piece of cake, right? Tough broad like you."

"Hah. Yeah. Piece of cake." April gave a weak laugh.

"_I love you!"_ Donnie finally managed to gasp, tears streaming down his face, "_God_, I love you so much."

"Dude, I can't even," Mikey squeaked, blinking and fanning his face, "You're gonna make _me_ start." Leo grinned and pushed his head playfully.

"I love you too, sweetie," came April's voice from the T-phone, "Do you hear her?"

"Yeah!" Donnie laughed, wiping his eyes, "Yeah, she sounds great!"

"Buncha weepy girls," Raph muttered. But he was smiling, too, and his green eyes seemed a bit over-bright.

"Is that Raph?"

"Everyone's here," Casey repeated, gesturing for them to say hello.

"Hi, April!" Leo called.

"You_ rock_, sis!" Mikey shouted.

April laughed.

"You _sure_ you're okay?" Donnie asked again, "No unusual hemorrhaging, blood pressure is good, nothing – "

"We're _fine_, Donnie," April soothed, "I promise. Everything was completely textbook."

Another wail filled the air, and they all grinned at each other in awe. Splinter rumbled his approval deep in his chest.

"I love you," Donnie repeated, "God, I _wish_…"

He stopped himself, thought twice, but couldn't seem to prevent himself from saying it.

"I _wish_ I was there with you."

"You _were_," April said, firmly, "You were with me the whole time. Both – all of you."

"When can we see you?" Casey asked, leaning forward.

"They want me to feed her," April said, "Make sure that goes okay. And then they have some more tests to run, and then they're keeping us overnight. Maybe a few hours?"

"We'll head on over," Casey said, "Send us a text so we know when the coast is clear."

"Okay," April said, "Be careful, guys."

"We will!" Leo promised, "Don't worry about us, you just rest."

"I gotta go," April said, "They're – wait, Dad, take the…"

There were some more muffled noises, and they heard a strange woman's indistinct voice. The baby's wailing intensified, then abruptly quieted as they were taken off speakerphone.

"Hello?" Kirby said.

"We're here," Donnie said, "It got quiet, is everything alright? Is the baby –"

"Everything's _fine_, Donnie," Kirby said, his voice patient and amused, "They brought her over to April…she's going to feed her, now."

"Mr. O," Casey said, "Thank you. For being there."

"I'm her _father_, Casey," Kirby answered, sternly, "I'll _always_ be there for her. That's my job."

"Yessir," Casey replied, meekly.

Donnie's head drooped a bit, and he winced. Leo gave him a reassuring pat on the shell. They all knew how badly both he and Casey had wanted to be there.

Kirby seemed to realize he might have misspoke, as he quickly continued.

"We'll see you boys very soon. Bring your phone, I'll let you know when it's time."

"Thank you, Mr. O'Neil."

"It's 'Grandpa,' now!"

"Okay, Grandpa," Donnie smiled.

"Congratulations, boys," Kirby said, warmly, "See you soon."

There was a quiet chirp as the call disconnected.

Donnie and Casey looked at each other, grinning broadly, and seized each other in a fierce embrace, slapping each other on the back.

"_Booyaksha_!" Mikey crowed, raising both fists in the air in jubilation.

"I'll get the camera," Leo said, dashing off to the lab.

"I got the grapplers!" Raph said, heading for the dojo.

"Dude, Leo, where's the climbing spikes, are they –"

"Kitchen table!" Leo hollered from the lab.

Donnie grabbed his phone, and he and Casey got to their feet, Casey checking that the keys to the van were still in the pocket of his hoodie.

"Drive _slowly_," Splinter warned.

"Yes, _sensei!_"

"Do _not_ be seen."

"No, _sensei_."

"I want _lots _of pictures!"

"_Hai, sensei!_"

"And video! But don't tire them out. And wash your hands!"

"Wash our _hands?!"_

"_You can't hold the baby with germy hands!"_

"_Hai, sensei._"

"Batteries! Where are the batteries?"

"Take 'em from the remote, dude! Come _ON!_"

"Catch!"

"Got it. Bye sensei!"

"Be careful!"

"We will!"

Joyful chatter and the sound of running feet echoed back to Splinter's ears, soon followed by the slide of the van door and the sound of the engine revving. Loud rock music joined the cacophony along with a symphony of whoops as the van drove off. He listened to the sounds of celebration fade as they made their way to the surface…soon he was alone in the quiet.

He heaved a deep, full sigh of relief, and ambled slowly to the dojo. Crossing to a chest in the corner, he opened it, and removed a bottle of sake and a small porcelain cup. He tottered over to the small shrine, smiled lovingly at the photo of himself with his wife and daughter, a young, foolish, human man. The expression on his rat-like face mimicked that of his ghost-self, frozen in time, gazing dotingly forever at little Miwa and…and…

Little Miwa and…

Frowning, he traced his fingers over his wife's face. Icy fingers caressed his heart.

No.

No, this couldn't be.

How could he possibly have –

_Shen_.

Tang Shen.

He took a shuddering breath, shaking his head slowly. He placed the cup down, carefully uncapped the sake with arthritic claws, and poured himself a small splash.

Leonardo would scold him if he knew, would remind him of his medications…What Leo didn't know wouldn't hurt him. Besides, it was a special day. And he needed to calm his nerves.

He smiled affectionately. How had he raised such a boy scout? If Leonardo could travel back in time and see the shenanigans Splinter had gotten up to when he was Leo's age, he wouldn't believe his eyes. Splinter was definitely a "do as I _say_" kind of parent, having experienced first-hand the consequences of his own reckless youth. Splinter suddenly remembered with a start that his sons were no longer teenagers…that they hadn't been teenagers in a long time. In fact, Donnie was older now than he had been when he first became a father.

He set the bottle down and raised the cup in a toast.

He could remember exactly how he felt on the day of Miwa's birth, could remember the fierce love and pride he felt the first time they placed her in his arms…The simple cotton blanket they had swaddled her in, like a dish towel, her little fist peeking out as she squalled. Beautiful. The most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

He then recalled the desperate day of his transformation – Mutation Day. The horror and anguish at his new form, but also his strangely strong drive to protect his odd new charges, these four little turtles…he didn't realize it at the time, of course, but what had begun as one of the worst, most terrifying days of his life, he would later come to celebrate as one of the best – the day he became a father once more; the day he was granted a new life, a new family: his precious sons.

He thought of Donatello…his son who had just made him a grandfather. He could remember exactly how he felt the very first time Donatello stared up at him with those warm brown eyes and he realized, with a start, that there was a _mind_ inside, that they were no longer just turtles….

He could remember it all.

But he realized, with a creeping sense of loss and shame, that he could no longer recall the date of either event…not his own little Miwa's birthday…not his own sons' Mutation Day. Spring? Was it in Spring? He wasn't sure if that felt right or not. He scanned his memories for clues but it was hard to mark the seasons in the sewers.

He wondered how long he would be able to revisit these precious memories…how long before they faded and slipped away…how long before he, himself faded, and eventually slipped away.

He took a small sip of sake, and made a rumbling noise deep in his chest, as he set the cup back down.

"_Kyō, watashi wa sofuda_," he smiled, addressing the photograph of his long-departed wife. (i) He chuckled softly. "Who could ever have guessed? I am an old gray rat and you are still young and beautiful."

He took another sip.

"_Koko ni anata ga ireba īnoni_." (ii)

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Donatello gazed adoringly at the sight before him. April was lying in bed, weary but beautiful, with his perfect little daughter feeding peacefully.

His daughter.

_I'm a father._

The little tuft of black hair on her round, pink head peeked out from April's robe. He felt like he would never get tired of looking at her – could stay there watching forever, like he was watching the world's most fascinating documentary, or a symphony orchestra performing. He glanced up, across the bed, and his eyes found Casey's. They grinned at each other, and went back to happily staring.

"She's _awesome_," Mikey grinned, manning the video camera, "You're _awesome_, Peanut. Look, that's your Mom. Say 'Hi, Mom!'"

April looked up at the camera and smiled. 

"Say hi, Dad! Er, Dads?…Parental…units?"

"Daddy," April corrected, leaning towards Donnie. Don waved to the camera, and leaned in to give April a kiss on the head.

"Awwww," Mikey chimed.

"And Casey is Pops," April smiled, turning to face him.

Casey grinned at the camera and gave a thumbs-up.

"Hiya, Peanut. Look, that's you! Look how tiny you are!"

"She_ is_ tiny," Leo smiled, fondly.

"That's your uncle – well, one of 'em. Say hi, Leo-_jichan_!"

Leo waved, and Mikey continued panning around the room.

"And here's Raphie-_jichan_."

Raph wrinkled his nose, "We're New Yorkers, Mikey. It's just 'Uncle Raph.'"

"'Kay, there's grumpy Uncle Raph…"

Raph stuck his tongue out, but Mikey was already turning the camera to face himself.

"And of course, here's your bestest, most favoritest, most handsomest uncle ever – "

"Oh, brother."

"Iiiiiiiiit's Mikey-_jichan_! Mwah, mwah, mwah, mwah! I shower you weeth keeeesses…mmmmmmmWAH!"

He pretended to kiss the lens while Raph groaned in embarrassment.

Mikey spun the camera again until it faced April, Donnie, and Casey again.

"See? We're all super-stoked you're finally here, Peanut!"

Finally he powered down the camera and closed the view screen.

"Good job, Uncle Mike," Donnie smiled.

"Can I hold her?" Mikey asked, practically bouncing on his toes.

"She's eating, Mikey," Leo answered, warmly, "Besides, don't you think Donnie and Casey should go first?"

"Okay," Mikey said, crestfallen, "But me next! I'm third in line!"

April giggled, and the baby fussed fretfully.

"Oo, oo, sorry," she said, gently adjusting her to get a better latch, "It's okay. Here you go. Don't cry."

April's robe fell open slightly as she situated the baby. Mikey and Raph looked away politely, giving her a chance to get settled, but Leo just smiled and stared with a faraway expression on his face.

Casey cleared his throat pointedly, and Raph poked Leo in the shoulder.

"Dude."

Leo looked up, startled out of his reverie, and quickly turned away, blushing furiously.

"Sorry," he said, laughing in embarrassment and putting a hand up in his line of sight, "Sorry, April, I wasn't…you just reminded me of something."

Raph snickered, "I bet."

"Don't be crass," Leo scolded, still red, "Remember_ Master Painters of the Renaissance_? The book where _sensei_ chose our names?"

Leo sank into a hospital chair, smiling vaguely.

"I used to leaf through it all the time when I was little – Curious about my namesake, I guess."

"Dude, I used to 'leaf through' that book too," Mikey smirked, elbowing Raph, "Three words for ya: Full. Frontal. Nudity."

"Ugh!" Leo looked up at his brother in abject horror. Mikey held up his hands defensively.

"Hey, it doesn't _count_ if it's _art_! That's like, _the rules_!" His eyes glazed over fondly, "Heh. I used to call it _'Masturba – '"_

"Could you _not _talk about – actually? Just don't talk. Like, ever again."

Mikey mimed zipping his lip. 

"_Anyway_…there was this one painting…DaVinci, Madonna and Child…she had red hair just like yours, April," Leo smiled, "Just…I dunno, the way you were looking at her just now, it reminded me…I used to love that painting when I was little. I'd stare at it and wonder what it'd be like…y'know, having a Mom."

He suddenly seemed a bit startled by how much he'd said.

"Great. Now I just sound like a creep. Thanks, Mikey. You turned that thing off, right?"

Mikey shrugged, and indicated his zipped lips again. Leo made a small noise of frustration.

"You can_ talk_, now."

"Yep, it's off. Your boob-gazing Mommy issues are officially off the record."

"You know what? I changed my mind," Leo said, putting his face in his palm, "Your speaking privileges are permanently revoked."

Casey and Raph were shaking with barely suppressed laughter.

"I'm never going to hear the end of this, am I?" Leo cringed, with a lopsided grin.

"That's very _sweet_, Leo," April said, shooting them all warning glances, "Very sweet, and not at all…weird."

Raph couldn't help it and snorted, which set Casey off, and soon they were all giggling.

"Yeah, yeah, yuck it up," Leo smirked, "I just thought it was cute, that's all. Hey, speaking of cute, and how we got our names…what are you naming this kid? We can't just put 'Peanut' on her birth certificate." 

"That's very true," April said, smiling down at her little bundle, "As of right now, she's still Baby O'Neil."

"O'Neil?" Leo asked, in surprise, "Not Hamato?"

"Or Jones?" Raph added, nodding at Casey uncomfortably, and earning a not-terribly-subtle look from Leo.

"It makes more sense this way," April explained hastily, "I kept my name when Don and I got married, and I'm probably going to be the one doing most of the picking up and dropping off…so it probably makes more sense for her and me to have the same last name."

The elephant in the room – that Donatello didn't technically _exist_ on paper; that he couldn't even get a driver's license, let alone sign adoption papers; that it would be pointless to give the baby the name of a man who doesn't exist, that 'Jones' was the obvious choice, but that April flatly refused to even further _erase_ Donnie from existence – was neatly sidestepped by mutual agreement, instant and silent. It was the same elephant they had all lovingly, _defiantly_ ignored at their wedding – a wedding with no license, no officiant, and six guests, who gathered to celebrate the beautiful new life Donatello had no legal right to _claim_.

Of course she was Baby O'Neil. Who else could she be?

"But as a compromise," she continued lightly, "Since I kind of 'called dibs' on the _last_ name, I thought I'd let Daddy choose the first and Pops choose the middle."

"Oo!" Mikey bobbed on his toes excitedly, "So what'd they pick?"

"I don't know, yet," April smiled, "I'm just as eager to find out as you are, Mikey. Did either of you pick yet?"

"Well uh," Casey said, "I was thinking…maybe…May?" 

"May?" Mikey repeated, hi face aghast with disappointment, "Like, April then May? That's so _easy _though!"

Raph scowled and gave him a bonk on the head.

"Yeah," Casey blushed, "But…it was also my Grandma's name. I dunno. You're right, it's kinda dumb. April, May…"

"No it's not," Donnie said, reassuringly.

"It's perfect," April smiled. Casey grinned shyly, then looked up at Donnie.

"Okay, Donnie – moment of truth."

"Actually…"

Donnie smiled nervously, fiddling with the edge of the baby's blanket.

"I made a list of about thirty that I liked. I thought I'd know as soon as I saw her, but now…none of them seem_…just right_. So I figured…maybe I'd better let her Godfather pick?"

He smiled at Mikey.

Mikey smiled, and looked expectantly at Leo. Raph hit him over the head again.

"Ow!"

"He means _you_, doofus."

Mikey turned to Donnie, his jaw hanging open in shock.

"_ME?_ But…Leo's oldest."

"What does_ that_ matter?" Leo laughed.

"Well, you're the leader-y, responsible-ish one. I just figured…"

"It's _you_, Mikey," Leo said, firmly, with a warm smile.

"I mean…after all, you are really good at naming things," Donnie smiled.

"Oh man – Oh dude, D!" Mikey's eyes were perfectly round, shimmering with excitement. He kept shifting his weight from one foot to the other, ready to leap out of his shell.

"Just don't name her 'Loudmouth' or 'Babyface' or something," Raph teased, "A _real_ name."

"Dude," Mikey retorted, rolling his eyes, "A little credit, please."

"Well, get to it, Dr. Namenstein," April smiled.

"Hmm."

Mikey cradled his chin thoughtfully, staring at the tiny bundle. For a while he just stared, then his gaze started wandering around the room.

"Well come on, Namenstein, if it's so _easy_," Casey teased, with a smug grin.

"That's _Doctor_ Namenstein," Mikey said, raising a finger.

"I think you may have created Namenstein's _monster_, Donnie," Leo chuckled.

Mikey ignored the teasing – his brothers never knew when to take things seriously. His eyes finally landed on a painting of lilies hanging on the far wall. He crossed over and examined it more closely.

"Hmm…April showers bring May flowers…"

"Oh…not 'Lily,' please," April groaned, "That's a funeral flower!"

But Mikey was examining the signature in the bottom right corner. Finally he wheeled around, a broad smile lighting up his freckled face.

"I got it," he beamed, "'Georgia.'"

"'Georgia?'" Raph repeated, a dubious expression on his face, "Where'd that come from?"

"Dude, it's _perfect,"_ Mikey said, animatedly, "We're all named after painters, right? Well, that's who painted these flowers! Georgia O'Keeffe! She's a _chick_ painter, and she's even got a 'O' name like her Mom, plus she's like, a modern painter, so it's like, the next generation…get it? Plus there's that song, '_Georgia On My Mind_,' and we're always gonna be thinkin' about her, like a song that gets stuck in your head, only she's like a song that gets stuck in your heart. And – "

He cut himself off abruptly, his expression suddenly shy.

"What?" Donnie prompted, smiling at his younger brother.

"No," Mikey said, toeing the ground, "You'll think it's stupid."

"Probably," Raph admitted. Leo elbowed him. "But go ahead and say it anyway."

"Well," Mikey said, poking his fingers together with a bashful grin, "'Cuz I wanna love her and squeeze her and call her 'George.'" 

"Okay, _that's_ adorable," April grinned, "I'm sold. What do you guys think?"

"Georgia May O'Neil," Donnie repeated, tasting the sound of it, "Georgia May."

April smiled down at the baby in her arms.

"Do you like that?" she asked, gently nudging her in her arms, "Do you like that? Our little Georgia peach right here in the Big Apple."

Georgia made a soft murmur, and her tiny hand opened and closed.

"Awwww."

They all leaned in a little closer, as if drawn by magnets. Suddenly, there was a rap at the door.

"Ah…April, sweetheart?" came Kirby's muffled voice, "Dr. Patel is here, she'd like to check on you and the baby. Can we come in?"

"Uh, just a sec!"

Leo was already out the window – his feet just disappearing from view as he hauled himself up the rope. Raph was next, with a quick smile and nod. Mikey held up the video camera and left it on the chair for them before following suit. Donnie gave a pained glance at his beautiful baby girl…his Georgia May…

"Donnie, you've got to," April whispered, urgently.

"It's okay, dude," Casey said, pulling him to the window.

"I'll come home as soon as I can, honey," April promised.

"April?"

"Yeah, Dad!" April called, "Hang on!"

Georgia fussed at the sudden noise. Donnie's arms cried out to reach for her, soothe her. Instead, his heart breaking at the thought of leaving, he forced himself to grab the rope and swing out of the window, Casey casually leaning on the windowsill to cover his exit.

"And how is Momma doing?"

Dr. Patel's voice had a warm, solicitous quality, and a thick Indian accent.

"We're fine" April voice replied, nervously.

"Not to chilly with that vindow open?"

"I was just closing it," Casey said. He turned around, and looking down, made eye contact with Donnie, who was dangling from the rope, still straining to hear the conversation.

Casey winced.

"Sorry," he mouthed silently.

Gently he closed the window, and turned to face the room again, casually trying to block as much of the window as possible with his body.

Donnie had nodded, tried to smile reassuringly, but he couldn't quite manage it. His daughter was in there…his beautiful, perfect little girl, just a few feet away…and he hadn't even gotten to hold her yet. He couldn't see her. Couldn't hear the sweet little noises she made.

"Dude," hissed a voice from above him, "I never climbed a rope so fast in my life."

"Shh!"

"What's he doing?"

"Don! Come on!"

With agonizing effort, Donnie dragged himself up the rope, away from the only place in the world he wanted to be. 

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"Today I am a grandfather."

"I wish you were here."


	10. Chapter 10

April stirred restlessly in her sleep, as Georgia's whimpers slowly dragged her out of slumber. She rolled over automatically towards the sound, expecting her hand to land on the rough surface of Don's shell. She truly woke up when it landed instead on the empty sheets, and she smiled to herself in chagrin.

Damnit, he'd done it again.

Blearily, she listened to the baby monitor he had sneakily left on his side of the bed. At first it was just Georgia whimpering. But then she heard him.

"Shhh, sh sh sh…Daddy's here. It's okay. You hungry? Come on, let's go get a snack."

Lying in bed with her eyes closed, she listened to the soft sounds of Donnie's feet as he padded past the door, and then the creak of the refrigerator door as Donnie grabbed a bottle. Georgia May, however, was just about as patient as her Mom and Pops, and in the time it took to walk to the kitchen the whimpering quickly became full-blown crying. April winced, and smiled to herself, thinking of their poor neighbors, and wondering who had visited their front door.

The guys had wrapped it in pink paper, festooned it with pink ribbons, and scribbled cheerful doodles of rattles, bottles, pacifiers, and inexplicably, dancing slices of pizza and singing ice cream cones. April had a feeling they represented Mikey's contribution. There were grainy print-outs of digital photos from the hospital (only of the baby, of course), and little pink footprints they'd made with the side of their hands and their thumbprints, as though a baby (with pretty sizeable feet) had stepped in paint and then run all over her doorway. There was a hand-lettered banner that read "It's A Girl!" and another, a bit lower, reading, "Welcome Home Georgia May."

After their first few nights at home, Donnie and April had added their own contribution to the décor: a ziplock baggie of foam ear plugs was duct-taped to the front door along with a note reading "We know. We're sorry." It seemed Georgia had inherited both her parents' temper and their lung capacity, and April couldn't help but notice that the baggie was considerably emptier now than it had been when they'd first filled it a week and a half ago.

Sighing, April slipped on her bathrobe and cracked her back before making her way out to the kitchen. When she got there, she paused however, and leaned her head on the doorframe to watch.

Don was swaying back and forth, a weary but contented expression on his face as he gently bounced Georgia on his shoulder.

"_I got sunshine…on a cloudy day,"_ he sang softly, _"when it's cold outside…I got my Georgia May. We-ell, I guess you'd say, what could make me feel this way? My girl…my girl…my girl…talkin' 'bout…my girl…"_

"You're a man of many talents, _kame-otto-chan_."

Donnie grinned at her sheepishly in reply, as Georgia continued to squall in his ear.

"You know it was supposed to be my turn. You left the baby monitor on your side again."

"I don't mind," Donnie said, hurriedly.

April quirked an eyebrow, and held out her hands.

"Gimme my kid."

"Okay, okay," Donnie sighed, passing her over.

"This is what maternity leave is _for_, Donnie," April sighed, parting her robe, and situating Georgia, "I want to keep her on the boob as long as I can before I have to go back to work."

"I know," Donnie sighed, "I just wanted to let you sleep."

"Uh-huh. Sure," April teased, getting situated on the glider, "You just don't like to share. Hand me the thing?"

Donnie smiled, grabbed the nursing pillow from the sofa and helped her get situated.

"I think we've established, Ms. O'Neil, that I'm pretty open-minded on the subject of sharing."

April snorted. "Okay, I guess I walked into that one."

They both heaved a sigh of relief at the blessed silence as Georgia settled in for a snack.

"It's just that Casey's weekend starts tomorrow," Donnie said, and April couldn't help but notice the look of longing in Donnie's face, "And I'm going to miss you two."

April smiled patiently. "We'll miss you too. But it's only two days. Besides, your brothers need you, too."

"I dunno. I was pretty useless last time. Slow, clumsy, distracted…mostly I just moped around wishing I was home with my girls."

He sighed, padding back to the kitchen.

"Should I put this back in the fridge?" Donnie asked, indicating the bottle warmer, "It's only been in there a second."

"That should be okay," April said, "She had a full bottle last time, right? What time did we start?"

Donnie squinted at the dim light of the VCR.

"Three twenty one," he said, "I'll write it in. Are we on leftie or rightie? I wasn't even paying attention."

"Leftie," April sighed, "And I'll try not to take it personally that you _weren't_ staring at my boobs."

"I plead exhaustion."

"Ow. Take it easy, kid." 

"See?" Donnie teased, "Don't blame me. You could be all snuggled up in bed right now."

"How can someone with no teeth be such a nudge?" April grumbled, stroking her daughter's curls affectionately. Her hair had seemed black when she was first born, but she had noticed now that it was actually a very dark brown. Sometimes, when the light hit it just right, it had the faintest sheen of red to it. April stared at her in fond fascination – she felt like she never got tired of looking at her.

There was a gentle "shave and a haircut" tapped at the window. April rolled her eyes.

"Are they_ serious_?"

Donnie crossed to the window, to let Mikey and Raph in.

"Oh good, you're up!" Mikey grinned, rubbing his hands together, "Brr! Gettin' chilly out there."

"Guys," April groaned, "How is she _ever_ gonna sleep if our living room is Grand Central Station all night?"

"See?" Raph said, poking Mikey in the shoulder. Mike batted his hand away, so Raph hit him in the shoulder, and Mikey stuck out his tongue.

"Guys, I'm gonna see you _all weekend,_" Donnie said, wearily.

"I know," Mikey pouted, "But we were heading in for the night, and we were in the neighborhood, so I figured, 'Hey, let's go see if Georgie's up,' and if you didn't answer, we were just gonna go straight home, right Raph?"

Raph shrugged apologetically at Donnie. "You know how he gets."

"Oh, come off it! You wanted to see her just as bad, or you woulda been all, 'no, way Mikey, that's _stupid_, _you're_ stupid, everything's _stupid_, _grrrrr_, I'm _Raph._'"

"Guys!" April hissed, "We have neighbors!"

"Sorry, April," Mikey said, lowering his voice to a sheepish stage whisper, "So…can Georgia come out and play?"

April checked the clock, and lifted Georgia closer to get a whiff of her diaper.

"Give us another five minutes," she said, "Then you can have some 'bonding time' while you change her diaper."

"Awe…some?" Mikey said, his smile becoming a bit conflicted. Raph poorly concealed a smug smirk.

"Where's Leo?" Donnie asked, glancing out at the fire escape.

Raph's smirk immediately sank into a scowl.

"Home."

Donnie's brow lifted. "It was just the two of you tonight?"

Raph rolled his eyes in Mikey's direction.

"Allllllll night."

His expression brightened momentarily, "Actually, if you wanted some fresh air?...Maybe make one more pass?"

Donnie shook his head, "No, Raph. Not tonight."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Raph grumbled, "Just…between you and Leo, we're two down...feels weird."

"What's Leo's deal?" Donnie asked, scowling in concern, "He sick or something? Must be pretty bad if he didn't – "

"He's _fine_," Raph said, curtly.

Don scowled.

"You guys fighting or something?"

Raph glared irritably. "That _would_ be your first guess."

"Okay, what, then?" Don said, getting irritated himself, "You're the one being all grouchy and cryptic."

Raph sighed. "It's sensei."

Donnie's heart sank in his chest.

"Leo…Leo doesn't think it's a good idea for him to be home alone anymore."

Donnie shuffled his feet, nervously.

"Is he…feeling alright? Maybe I need to adjust his – "

"He gets_ lost_," Raph said, curtly, "He'll go in the kitchen, and then just stand there, looking around like…whatever. S'fine. Leo's there."

There was an awkward silence. Raph filled it by abruptly crossing to the fridge and rooting around.

"Pfft. Nothin' in here but breast milk and apple juice," he groused, closing the fridge.

"Sorry," Donnie said, firmly, "Bar's closed."

Raph straightened up, and glowered at him from the kitchen, eyes narrowed. Donnie simply stared back, folding his arms.

Georgia started whimpering and fussing in the silence.

"Okay, Mikey," April said, breaking the awkward moment, and passing Georgia over, "She says she's done."

"Hiya, stinker," Mikey said, taking a fussy Georgia, "Wheeeeere's Mikey-_jichan_? Here he is!"

He stood, placing her on his shoulder and bouncing her gently.

"Let's go get you a fresh – "

She abruptly spit up all over his carapace. Donnie couldn't help but giggle at the mute horror on Mikey's face.

"Oops," April said, apologetically, "Um. Don, do we have…?"

Don chuckled, grabbing a rag off the kitchen counter. He made eye contact with Raph, who was smirking despite his better judgment. Raph looked away quickly, like he got caught being happy when he still felt like being pissed off. Don sighed, ran the dishtowel under the faucet, and tossed it to April.

"I got her."

Mikey handed over Georgia May, who was whimpering again. Don smiled as she nestled into his arms again. He felt a sense of _relief_ every time he held her – like coming up for air after holding your breath.

"Come on, Georgia peach. Let's get you cleaned up and ready for bed. "

"Um. Same, please," Mikey said, turning his shell to April, who giggled and started mopping him up as best she could.

Raph nearly jumped out of his shell as his T-phone vibrated ticklishly against his plastron.

"Who the hell is callin' at this hour?"

Fishing it out of the pouch on his belt, he was surprised to see it was from Casey.

"Case," he said, picking up, "We just stopped in on the Peanut. What're ya – "

"Raph – Shut up. It's Candy. She called me up in a panic, says she needs _you_. Right now."

"Me?" Raph asked, in surprise, "What does she need _me_ for? What the hell happened?"

"I got no idea, she just calls me up middle of the night, cryin' and screamin' her head off, won't tell me word _one_, just says 'I need Raphael, get me Raphael.' Wants you to get over to the bar right now. Told her I'd try and get ya."

"Yeah…yeah, alright." Raph sighed, bewildered, "Tell her to sit tight."

"If you get there and nothing's on fire," Casey growled, "Tell her to lose my damn number, alright? Four in the freakin' morning."

"Yeah. On my way." 

"Awww," Mikey whined, as Raph slid the phone back into the pouch in his belt, "We're going out _again_?"

"You're not. I am. Leave your phone on, though. Just in case."

"Trouble?" April asked, "Are you sure you should be going alone?"

"S'Candy," he muttered, "She's prolly just bein' melodramatic. She coulda asked Casey to come too, but she only wants _me_ for some reason."

"Dude – Raph totally just got a booty call," Mikey teased, waggling his brow.

Raph elected not to dignify that with a response, and leapt back into the cold early morning air without saying goodnight. 

**TMNTtmntTMNTtmntTMNTtmntTMNTtmntTMNTtmntTMNTtmntTMNTtmnt**

A hitched ride on the top of a truck and another short jog found him on the roof across from the bar, his joints creaking and muscles protesting as he landed – it had already been a long night, and it was cold, he rationalized.

_Yep. Has nothing to do with the fact that you're thirty-fucking-five and still doin' this shit._

For all that they complained about "Turtle Luck," he mused that it was something of a minor miracle none of them were dead yet. It certainly wasn't for lack of trying, life that they lived. They'd all been shot, stabbed, poisoned, broke a few bones each, electrocuted, and nearly drowned a couple times for good measure – and drowning a turtle was _work_. You had to _commit_. Hell, Leo was even in a coma that one time, little over-achiever.

He shuddered and pushed the memory aside.

_Let's not go there. _

He quickly scanned the surrounding streets – all dark, all quiet. The bar was dark, and seemed to be locked up tight – no broken glass or nothing. There was a light on in Candy's apartment. As he watched, she paced by the window, pulled back the curtain, and peered anxiously out into the night, then whipped the curtains shut again.

Raph sighed. She probably heard somethin' go bump in the night and wanted him to poke around looking for prowlers. Why the hell couldn't she get Casey to do that?! Or just call the damn cops?! He'd have to have a word with her about what constituted an "emergency."

He took a few steps back to get a running start, and went flying across the alley, tucking and rolling on her roof. Securing his grappler to the ledge, he slid down a few feet, hissing as he gripped the rope to brake himself. _Ow._ Shoulda gone hand over hand, but he was low on patience.

He rapped abruptly at her window, and just a few seconds later, she flung open the curtains. Seeing it was him, she threw the window open and beckoned him inside.

As soon as he saw her face, he knew this wasn't just a "bump in the night" kinda call. Her eyes were red, bloodshot, and wide as saucers. Mascara tracked down her cheeks – she'd been crying, and she was scared – really scared. A cigarette trembled in her hands, almost down to the filter, and the ashtray on the coffee table was already overflowing. He coughed at the thickness of the smoke in the air.

"What's the problem?" he asked, gruffly.

"Thank you," she said, tears leaking from her eyes, "I didn't know who else to call."

"Casey couldn't help you?" Raph muttered, but secretly he felt a little pleased that she had called him for help…No one had ever asked for_ just_ him before.

"No, no, it had to be you. Sit. Y'wanna sit? Sit."

She sat nervously on the edge of the couch and ashed her cigarette.

"I, uh…I don't really wanna – look, what's the problem, here?" Raph hemmed, eyes darting to the window.

"_Siddown,"_ Candy snapped, jabbing her cigarette butt at the other end of the sofa, and then stamping it out in the overflowing ashtray, "I don't give you enough free booze, you can't siddown for _five fucking minutes_?"

"Sheesh, alright."

Raph sat on the crappy, orange plaid sofa. Thing was probably from the seventies. Practically an antique. He regarded Candy, then held his hands out expectantly.

"One ninja turtle, as requested," he drawled.

"How did you…how did you get like this?" Candy asked, nervously indicating his entire self.

"Candy. Did you drag me here at four a.m. for my _origin story_?" Raphael snarled.

"_Humor me!"_ Candace hissed, and wiped some fresh tears away.

Raphael sighed.

"It was mutagen. Like…this glowy, greenish…ooze. Kraang shit. We got hit with a canister of it."

"And that's what made you…change, or whatever? Into turtles?"

Raph shifted, nervously.

"We started out as turtles. But yeah, that's what made us…y'know, this."

Candace hugged her knees, then hugged her chest, eyes darting around the room. With trembling fingers she snatched a pack of menthols off the coffee table, and shook a fresh one out of the box. She took one in her lips, and tried to get the lighter to light. She kept sparking it, but it wouldn't light.

"Come on, ya little _fucker_," she mumbled around the cigarette. Raph saw fresh tears brewing in her eyes.

Whatever the hell happened tonight had her seriously spooked, and that was saying something. The first time she saw Raph, she'd been shocked, of course, but she'd held it together pretty well.

_"This is my buddy, Raph," Casey had said, once the fighting was over._

_Candace was staring wide-eyed at the mutant standing over the wreckage of her bar and the groaning, semi-conscious Purple Dragons, her painted lips set in a grim, terrified line. _

"_He's, uh….He's…got a skin condition."_

_Raph cringed, and gave Casey a death glare. Candy's eyes raked him dubiously from head to toe, obviously aware that this "skin condition" line was total bullshit. She drew a shaky breath._

_"Well, okay then, Raph," she finally said, putting a rocks glass on the bar, "What's your poison?"_

She'd never asked another word – never pried. It was one of the things Raph liked about her the most.

Point being – it took effort to rattle Candace. And she was clearly rattled.

Calmly, he pried the lighter out of her vice grip, and delicately took the cigarette from her lips. Putting it in his own mouth, he lit it carefully, took one drag to get it started, and then passed it back to her, suppressing a cough. She took a long drag, held it, and then released it in a puff.

"Thanks," she whispered, "Thanks, Raph."

She wiped fresh tears from her face, smearing the mascara tracks.

"Did it hurt?" she mumbled, in a voice thick with tears held in check, "Y'know…changing?"

"I don't remember it," Raph said, slowly, "I was a baby. But I seen it happen to other people. Yeah. It hurts." 

Candace winced, and buried her face in her hands.

"Candy, what the hell – "

"Do you take drugs? Like – how much drugs do you take?"

Raph blinked. Every time he answered a question she busted out with even weirder shit.

"Alright, look Candace," he said, sternly, "You're gonna start at the beginning and tell me what the fuck I'm doing here, or I'm out. Okay? Take a breath, calm your tits, and _talk_, or there's nothing I can do to help."

Candy eyed him, making up her mind. He was about to prove his point, stand up and walk out, when she said in a hoarse whisper:

"You can't tell anyone."

Raph felt a creepy feeling tingle up the back of his neck…like someone was walking their fingers slowly up his spine – someone he didn't like much.

"Okay."

"I mean it, Raph. Not Casey, not your brothers, _nobody."_

"Okay."

She seemed to finally make a decision, and stood up.

"Follow me."

He followed her mutely as she led him back towards what he assumed was her bedroom. His heart thudded uncomfortably in his chest as he realized he'd never been in a chick's bedroom before, 'cept April, and she didn't count, and he immediately chastised himself for being so stupid as to even notice something like that.

She paused at the door, her hand on the knob. She was shaking like a leaf.

Raph wasn't good at this "panicky females" shit. He put one hand on her shoulder in what was meant to be a comforting gesture, but she almost jumped out of her skin, so he took it away again quickly. Finally she took a deep breath, held it, and opened the door.

The tail was the first thing Raph saw. Long, thick, and green, poking out from under the twisted bed sheet along with a shapely leg, ending in two toes. The green skin was marred by long, deep scratches, still oozing a little blood. For a split second, he had a horror that she was dead, that Candace had somehow killed a mutant, dragged it into bed, and covered it with a sheet. He stared at the sheet-draped torso, to see if it was breathing, and her back was, indeed, rising and falling slowly…too slowly. It was obviously in some kind of distress. It? She? He had no idea how sentient this mutant was…His eye moved north and with a shock, he saw bushy brown hair peeking out of the top of the sheet.

Hair?! What the hell kind of reptile has hair?! Was she even a reptile? What was she, like – a newt? A salamander? Regardless, there was no mistaking what he was seeing – she was… 

"A mutant," Raph whispered.

Candace turned her pleading face to his, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Fix her."

"Fix – what?! You want me to – I don't even…Candy, who the hell _is_ this?"

Candace burst into racking sobs, and buried her face in her hands.

"My sister," she sobbed, "My kid sister, Mona."


	11. Chapter 11

"Fix her," Candy repeated, "Please, you gotta – "

"What happened here?" Raph barked, pointing to the scratches on her skin and the rust-colored stains on the sheet.

"She did it to herself," Candy sobbed, babbling rapidly as she wiped her face, "She was screaming and crying and there was blood and I didn't know what to do so I gave her a few Ambien and some Xanax but I think maybe I gave her too much but she's _bigger_ than she used to –"

"Wait, you_ drugged_ her? How many is _'a few'?!_ _Damnit_, Candace – "

"_I PANICKED, ALRIGHT?!"_ Candy shouted, slapping Raph in the shoulder, "You didn't _see_ her! She says she wants to shower, _begs_ me for a shower, I say 'Sure, Mona, whatever you want,' and I hear the door close and then that _scream – _God!I had to break the damn _door_ down, and there's bits of mirror everywhere and she's just…_clawing_ at herself – I almost took her to the hospital, but – "

"The _hospital?!"_ Raph cried, his brow leaping to the ceiling, "You can't take her there!_"_

"_No shit, Sherlock!"_ Candy cried, "You think I want her to end up somebody's _science project?!_ But I had to do _something_!"

Raph had only listened to the first part of this, before abruptly entering the bedroom, gripping Mona by the shoulders and shaking her roughly.

"Mona," he shouted, "Mona! Can ya hear me?"

He dropped his head down close to hers, felt for a pulse, and listened carefully for her breath. Heartbeat was sluggish. Breath was shallow, noisy, uneven.

"Candy - we need to call my brother. He's the only one who can – "

"_NO_," she said, shaking her head, eyes growing wide with panic, "No, no way. _Nobody_ can see her like this."

"Well I don't know what the fuck to tell you, Candace!" Raph snarled, "_He's_ the scientist, not me! Besides, even _he_ hasn't got the _magical mystery cure_ you're hopin' for, okay? That ain't how this works, he's not just gonna walk in here like, 'So, you're a goddamn _lizard? _Well, shit happens, take two of these and call me in the morning!'"

But Candace slid down the doorframe, shaking like a leaf and burst into hysterical tears, her face a mask of tragedy, contorted in grief.

"Aaahhhh damn," Raph cursed softly, "Candy, I – "

He sighed. Well, if he couldn't call Donnie he was just gonna have to do his best.

"Alright, look, get up. Get _up,_ Candace! You got coffee?"

"C-Coffee? You want?…"

"It's not for _me_! Just – make coffee. The stronger the better – espresso if you got it."

"Okay. Right. Coffee. Yeah."

She got to her feet shakily, and stumbled towards the kitchen.

Raph sighed, and gently as possible, rolled Mona onto her back.

_Woah. Weird. _

She had boobs. Well, kinda…boobish…lumps. What the hell kinda reptile had hair and boobs? That was mammal stuff. Then again, what the hell kinda turtle had teeth? Or for that matter, walked, talked and fought crime?

_All a matter of perspective, I guess.  
><em>  
>He laid down next to her on the bed, wrapped her arm around his shoulder, tucking it between his neck and his shell, and sat back up, dragging her along with him. Her head sagged backwards at an uncomfortable angle, and she moaned softly.<p>

"Yep. Come on, we're goin' for a walk."

Grabbing her wrist with his right hand, he wrapped his left around her waist and dragged her out of bed. She groaned weakly again, head lolling forward now. Her feet dragged against the floor as he carried her awkwardly out to the living room, and started pacing back and forth.

Candace eyed them anxiously. He could see a million questions burning in her eyes, but a glower from him silenced them all.

Back and forth they went, the silence punctuated periodically by Mona groaning distractedly. After dragging her for a few circuits, he was pleased to see that she would occasionally attempt a stumbling step, though her feet quickly gave out from under her again. Her tail dragged limply behind her, twitching spastically every now and again – he wasn't sure she even remembered it was there, let alone knew how to move it.

"Atta girl," Raph muttered, "We're just takin' a little stroll."

"Nnnnggg…"

"Come on, honey," Raph growled, more firmly, "Time to wake up. Come on. Can you tell me your name?"

"Mmm….Mo…nnna."

"Mona – that's a nice name. Real nice. Know where you are, Mona?"

"M…muh….my…"

She was struggling to form words, but her eyes fluttered, and she started trying to take more steps instead of just being dragged along. Slowly, Raph relaxed his grip, trying to let her support more of her weight.

"Sish….shister…"

"That's right," Raph said, feeling like the host of the world's weirdest TV Quiz show, "Two for two. Next time you gotta put it in the form of a question, though."

"Nnn…"

"Nope, hey – get those feet under ya. Come on, stand up. That's right, here we go. Know what year it is?"

"T…..twuh…..two?"

"Two? Nope, sorry. A for effort, though."

"Whuh…who?..."

"Just a friend," Raph said, "I'm just a friend."

"Can…dy?…"

"I'm right here, sweetie," Candy called, anxiously, "I'm here, baby. You're doin' real good. Raph – coffee's ready."

Raph walked Mona over to the kitchen table and carefully tried to deposit her in a chair, but her tail kept getting in the way.

"Candy, yer gonna have to uh…come and…"

Candace hurried over, reached for her sister's tail, and then hesitated, as though suddenly horrorstruck. Raph seethed.

"Gettin' heavy here," he snapped.

It was a lie. He had more than enough strength to hold Mona up for another few hours, but he didn't like the way Candace was gawking at her tail like it was something disgusting – he'd seen that look directed his way from humans before – pretty much every human he'd ever met. Even April, at least at first. It never got any easier. He suddenly felt fiercely protective, didn't want anyone looking at Mona like that. Poor girl was havin' a hard enough time. And with chagrin, he thought maybe he understood a little better why Candy was so adamant about nobody else seeing her.

Candy finally managed to get Mona's tail situated through the back of the chair. Raph carefully positioned her arms on the table and then carefully lowered her head down. Once she was situated, he took the opportunity to crack his neck and stretch out his arms.

Just as he was about to lift her head up again, try to get her to drink some coffee, his T-phone buzzed against his plastron again.

"Try an' get her to drink some," Raph said, stepping aside, and allowing Candace to pull up a chair next to her.

He flicked open the phone to see a text from Leo.

**LeoIchibanTurtle: You coming home or what?  
><strong>

Raph scowled, and thumbed a terse reply:

**Raph: no**

He was already putting it away again when it buzzed in his hand. He grunted in annoyance. Guess Leo couldn't make it that easy.

**LeoIchibanTurtle: Care to elaborate?**

**Raph: I got a situation here**

He waited for the inevitable bitching.

**LeoIchibanTurtle: Hm. A "situation" at Candy's. **

**LeoIchibanTurtle: I wonder – will this "situation" result in a hangover? **

_Aaaaaaand there it is.  
><em>  
>Raph scoffed, tempted to throw the damn phone out the window. Wouldn't be the first time. He usually just told Don it got cracked in a fight, though he worried he was starting to get wise to that excuse.<p>

Instead of flinging the phone out the window, he took a breath and let it out through clenched teeth. He didn't want to bother Don just 'cause he couldn't keep his temper.

_Huh. Look at me, all growed up. _

**Raph: Yeah leo u got me all figured out**

He slammed the T-phone shut, and shoved it back into the pouch in his belt. He returned his attention to the soft murmuring behind him.

"Come on, just another sip, sweetie. There ya go."

"Uggh…s'gross…"

He stomped over, and putting Mona's arm around his neck, dragged her to her feet again, ready for another scenic tour of Candy's living room. The T-phone buzzed against his plastron a few more times but he ignored it. 

Two cups of coffee and who knew how many shuffled laps around the living room later, Mona was supporting almost all of her own weight, and her breathing was quiet and regular. Raph got a funny feeling as he made the left turn around the coffee table for the umpteenth time, and he glanced over to see Mona sneaking a look at him.

"Hey," he said, surprised.

"Hey," she responded, through weary, drooping eyelids.

"Rough night, huh?" he said. He tried to make his voice as gentle and unthreatening as possible, but it just came across like this weird psycho whisper, so he cleared his throat and tried again, "You uh…you feelin' any better?"

"Tired," she said, "Really…really…"

She seemed to be hunting for another word.

"Tired."

"Yeah, well," Raph said, with a reproachful glance at Candy, "A fistful of downers'll do that to ya." 

Candy took it in stride. She just looked so relieved that Mona was coming out of it, that Raph probably coulda said anything at that point, and she'd just sit there and take it. Truth be told, he was pretty relieved himself.

"Arrre you a…turtle?" Mona asked, blearily.

"Yep."

"Huh. Are we…on a date?"

Raph blinked. "Um. No?"

"Huh. Candy…always tryin'…ssset me up. Heh."

It was a hollow, humorless laugh that sent shivers up Raph's spine.

"I'm…muh lizard now," she said, her voice sounding strange and distant.

"Yeah," Raph said, quietly, "Yeah, we kinda noticed."

He didn't know what else to say.

"Sorry 'bout that," he added, as an afterthought. Not that _he_ had anything to do with it, but…

Mona shook her head slowly, tears filling up her eyes.

"I think…I wanna wake up now."

Raph sighed, and brought her to a stop. She swayed on her feet, but stayed up under her own power. He put a finger to her neck – pulse was regular. Breathing was good. She just stared straight ahead with glassy eyes.

"I think it's safe now to let her sleep," he said quietly, "Why don't you take her to bed?"

Candy nodded, wearily, and crossed the room to Mona.

"Come on, babe," she said, tenderly running a hand through Mona's hair, "Bedtime."

Mona's face crumpled, and she began to weep softly.

"Shhh, shh, shh, come on," Candy soothed, "No more tears, sweetie. Where's that beautiful smile, huh? Show me that Mona Lisa smile."

This only seemed to make her sob harder. Candy abruptly pulled her into a tight embrace.

"I swear, Mona, _it's gonna be okay_," she promised, her voice a fierce, fervent whisper, "We're gonna _fix _it. I _swear_."

She glanced up at Raph.

"It pulls out."

"Huh?"

"The sofa. It, uh…it pulls out, if you…I mean…would you mind?..."

Raph sighed.

"Yeah. I'll stay."

Candy took one hand away from Mona and gripped his forearm like a vice. He was surprised momentarily by just how strong she was.

"Thank you," she said, in her gritty, chain-smoker's voice. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying and exhaustion, but he could see them shining with pure gratitude.

Raph just nodded.

"S'fine."

Candy wrapped her arms around Mona again, whispering soothing nothings into her hair as she guided her down the hall to the bedroom again.

Raph turned wearily to the sofa, and took out his T-phone again. He should probably send Leo one more text before he passed out. He flicked it open to find all the unread texts from Leo he'd been ignoring.

**LeoIchibanTurtle: You aren't that hard to figure out, Raph.  
>LeoIchibanTurtle: That it, then?<br>LeoIchibanTurtle: Great. Well, have fun I guess. **

**LeoIchibanTurtle: At least drink some water. **

**LeoIchibanTurtle: He's been asking for you. FYI.**

Raph's gut twisted miserably and he wished he _was_ black-out drunk. Checking his phone had been a bad idea. As he was thinking this, the phone buzzed in his hand.

**LeoIchibanTurtle: Sorry. That was lousy, the way I said it. He really was asking, though. **

Raph tried to think of what he could say, anything he could say that would somehow make this situation with Master Splinter more bearable, and like always, he came up dry, with an overwhelming urge to run away. Before he could think of something, Leo texted again.

**LeoIchibanTurtle: Remember when I was injured during the Kraang invasion?  
><strong>  
>Raph snorted in disbelief. <em>Remembered?<em> Yeah, it had only been his worst waking nightmare…only featured prominently in his _actual_ nightmares for months afterwards. Every once in a while, he'd look at Leo, and he'd suddenly remember, like missing a stair, the way his face looked, blank and slack, mouth hanging open slightly, wondering if those piercing blue eyes were already closed forever.

Yeah. He remembered.

**LeoIchibanTurtle: You stayed by me that whole time. And then you helped get me back on my feet again. Even when it wasn't easy.**

**LeoIchibanTurtle: I really need THAT Raphael right now. **

Raph squirmed uneasily. Uggh, of all the times for Leo to open up –

**LeoIchibanTurtle: I just don't think I can do this. Not alone.  
><strong>  
>Raph hung his head in guilt, like a dog, not wanting to think what that had cost him to say. Leo always took the world on his shoulders. He had probably wanted to patrol tonight more than anything, just hit the rooftops and <em>run,<em> feel the cold air, clear his head, be with his brothers and _away_, far away from the lair…but he sent them out – so that _they_ could have that instead. So they could have the release, that freedom from the oppressive, heartbreaking knowledge that Splinter was already leaving them, fading out of their lives like bad reception – like the radio on the drive up to the farm; their preset stations getting fuzzier and fuzzier until it was nothing but static. And there was nothing they could do about it.

And what had he done? Complained about Mikey's motormouth all night, and bailed out without calling. However valid the reason, he could've _called_.

**Raph: u wont have to**

**LeoIchibanTurtle: You're up?!**

**Raph: told u. got a situation here**

**LeoIchibanTurtle: Need help?**

**Raph: no**

**LeoIchibanTurtle: …okaaay. **

**LeoIchibanTurtle: Well, try to get home when you can. It's a Donnie weekend. I wanted us to try and spend some time with sensei all together before patrol.**

**Raph: ok**

**LeoIchibanTurtle: (1/2) I'm sorry Raph. I know it sucks, but I can't ask Don to help, he needs to focus on Georgia, and not being able to just wave his magic wand and FIX this is too hard on him. And we can't**

**LeoIchibanTurtle: (2/2) ask Mikey. We've got to protect him from this. At least the worst parts. Agreed? **

**Raph: agreed**

Raph looked blearily out the window. It was already after dawn.

**Raph: its dawn. gonna sleep now. home noon. ill stay w him 2nite so u can patrol w Don**

**LeoIchibanTurtle: Thanks. I hate to ask but I really need it.**

Raph nodded. He missed Donnie, didn't realize how much he would until he moved out…going out on patrol with Donnie and Mikey, it'd be almost like old times – they could almost pretend Leo was just up ahead, on the next roof…but this was something concrete he could do to help. For Leo.  
><strong><br>Raph: its ok. hes my dad too**

**LeoIchibanTurtle: I know. **

**LeoIchibanTurtle: I'm just glad you're okay.**

Raph wrinkled his nose, not really sure how to respond to a Leo who wasn't bitching him out.

**Raph: K. **

He wanted to say much more, but he didn't know how, and he was suddenly bone-crushingly exhausted. He sank onto the couch, facedown, not bothering to pull it out. He dropped the phone unceremoniously on the floor next to him, and was asleep within minutes.

**TMNTtmntTMNTtmntTMNTtmntTMNTtmntTMNTtmntTMNTtmntTMNTtmnt**

Mikey watched from the shadows as Leo sighed, closed the T-phone, and settled back down on the couch. Leo had taken to sleeping on the sofa, the better to intercept_ sensei_ when he started wandering. Things had gotten a little easier since Mikey had thought of the bell. Purloined from one of Klunk's old toys, he set it in the track of _sensei_'s door, so that when it slid open, it hit the bell and jingled. It was more than enough to wake Leo, who was already a light sleeper. At least now he could nap during the night.

A master ninja like Splinter would easily be able to avoid this, of course…even just sliding the door more slowly would do the trick – except that he always forgot it was there. He tended to get very surly when he discovered it, asking what mischief they were hatching; but Leo always reacted with surprise, then rolled his eyes amusedly, dismissing it as a harmless prank, promised he'd keep a closer eye on his brothers – and then put it right back as soon as Splinter was sleeping.

It was a heartbreaking performance.

Leo would ask him what he needed and when he couldn't remember, Splinter would ask Leo where his brothers were, and Leo would always reply "Sleeping, _sensei."_ He'd learned that "patrolling" was the wrong answer – he just became agitated that Leo wasn't out there with them. Leo would then mention casually that he'd like to stretch his legs, and ask if _sensei_ might like to join him? After a casual stroll past the bathroom (in case he had needed it and couldn't find it), Leo would remind _sensei_ that he'd skipped dinner, and suggest that he must be feeling hungry. Sometimes it was even true. After trying to push a few bites of food onto him, they'd have some tea, take his meds if it was time, and he'd lead him back to bed.

Sometimes he did this three, four times a night. He never complained. Never showed any signs of fatigue, or frustration. He was the perfect, responsible, dutiful son.

It drove Mikey insane.

Watching Leo settle into the couch, he wanted to shake him, even haul off and sock him on the nose, and he could hardly even put his finger on _why_. The feeling scared him, and he tried to push it away. Is this what Raph felt like all the time? It must be _exhausting_. Mikey was usually pretty easygoing, and he didn't like all this swirling, ominous…badness…swirling…ominously. Especially when Leo really hadn't done anything to _deserve_ a sock on the nose.

Where did that come from anyway, "sock on the nose?" What did socks have to do with punching people? He pictured a sock hanging off someone's nose. His brothers didn't have socks. Didn't really have noses either, strictly speaking. What was that word Don used for how words got made up – entomology? He'd have to ask Don the entomology of "sock on the nose."

Ugh. _Focus_.

_Stupid brain. _

Why did Leo have to be so _good_ and so _patient_, and always have that fake, tired, miserable smile on his face, like, "I'm okay, everything's all okay." Who was he kidding?

He wasn't a _baby_. That trick didn't work anymore, like knowing the rabbit was in the hat to begin with, or that the flowers were up his sleeve the whole time. Of course it wasn't _okay._

Like, if Leo could just give up this routine of perfect son-liness…then maybe they could actually _talk _about it, and it would just be this huge friggin' _RELIEF_, like finally getting to slouch and crack your neck after an hour in _kekkafuza_ position.

Leo never cracked his neck after meditation. He just took a deep breath, opened his eyes, and stood up.

_Oo_! You know what it was? Okay, so, it's like, Mikey was Jimmy Olsen, and Leo was like Clark Kent _AND_ Superman. Like, he was his bro, right? Or, well, his buddy or whatever, but also, he looked up to him like a superhero, cuz he kinda _was, _basically_. _Only problem was, when the shit hits the fan, Clark always makes his excuses and disappears mysteriously, and suddenly, there's only Superman. Clark only shows up again once the danger's past, all "what did I miss?"

That's how it was with Leo. When the shit hits the fan – there's only Superman.

And he should be glad, right? Cuz that means Superman's here to save the day. But what he really wanted – what he _needed_ – was his bro. And he was actually kinda mad at Superman for always showing up and crowding him out of the way, even though they're really the same guy. Leo, that is. Well, Clark-Leo.

Lark?

Cleo?

_Fuck it, metaphors are dumb. _

His fingers traced the grout between the bricks of the hallway. He listened as Leo's breathing slowed down. He wasn't asleep yet, but he was deliberately slowing his breathing, trying to clear his mind.

He thought about what he wished he could say to him.

_I'm not a little kid anymore. I'm not stupid, I know what's happening, here. I'm not useless. I could help, if you'd let me. You don't have to do this all by yourself. It's okay to be sad, or mad, or scared. I'm scared, too.  
><em>  
>But he knew he wouldn't. And he knew saying these things out loud would only make it even harder for Leo, somehow. Leo <em>needed<em> his "Best Son Ever" shtick the same way Mikey _needed_ his "Everything's a Big Joke" shtick – it didn't matter that they could all see right through each other's bullshit by now – they still _needed_ it, because without it, who would they…_be_?

_Woah. Heavy. Brrr. _

_Snack time.  
><em>  
>He kind of wanted the leftover pizza in the fridge, but knew Leo wasn't asleep enough not to hear the fridge door opening and closing, no matter how carefully he did it, and he really didn't feel like having a conversation with Leo's "everything's fine" face. Come to think of it, he still had a bag of pork rinds in his stash of Emergency Munchies in the bottom of his closet. He might even have some Oreos left? No – wait – he'd already killed those. Oh well. Porks rinds's do. He was feeling salty-ish anyway.<p>

Using his ninja silence, he slunk out of the shadows and back to his room.

Maybe he should just let Leo do his thing, if it made him feel better. They all had their thing. He thought about Donnie, and his fifty-syllable words…Like he was a knight in shining armor and there was no dragon he couldn't slay, so long as he could find a word big enough. "Onomatopoetic! Hexacovalent! Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious! Take that, foul beast!"

And then there was Raph, and his brooding and cursing and stomping around and…and the drinking. That was new. It's funny, he didn't think it was a big deal until Donnie thought it was a big deal, and then Leo thought it was a big deal, and now as much as Mikey hated to think it, maybe…maybe it kinda was?

He wished there was some way that he could talk to all of them, without having to actually…y'know…_talk_. Just be like, "Hey, I totally see what you're doing there, and that's cool and all, but you don't _have_ to do that."

Pfft. Right. He could see how that'd go over. Nope, that was the penalty you paid for being class clown…it's like the Boy Who Cried Wolf: when you finally _wanted_ to say something serious – nobody took you seriously.

He found himself looking forward to Donnie coming home the next day. Donnie and he fit like puzzle pieces, and it was always reassuring – he listened with rapt attention while Donnie techno-babbled, and in return, Donnie laughed at his jokes and didn't treat him like he was stupid...but the most fun was when something would happen, and they'd just look at each other, and he'd know, like, right away exactly what Donnie was thinking, like they didn't even have to use words – and it just felt so good for somebody to _get_ him like that. Not that he wasn't close with Raph, or Leo, but they didn't always _get _him.

Plus, he was pretty sure Don knew. Y'know, about him. I mean, not like he'd really had to say it in so many words, but Don was smart, and he was like, 99.999% sure he was cool with it, because he never treated him any different.

_And then there's that time he walked in on me "web surfing." So, heh…yeah…cat out of the bag, I guess. _

_Cat. I miss Ice Cream Kitty. And Klunkers. Cats are so awesome but why don't they live as long as people? Or, uh – turtle-people? That's lame. They should.  
><em>  
>He flopped down on his bed, not bothering to be stealthy now that he was out of earshot, and sighed heavily. With a little guilt, he wondered if he was being fair to his brothers, wondered if he should just get it over with and tell them. But really, what the hell did it matter? Not like there were a lot of dating opportunities in the sewer…what Donnie had with April was kind of a one-in-a-million lucky break. Raph was right – the rest of them probably couldn't ever expect to find the same.<p>

Besides, they'd probably just think he was joking, or that it was some crazy idea he'd got into his head, like a phase, or whatever. And if they did take it seriously, it'd probably just make everybody all weird and crunchy, and they all had enough on their minds. He sighed, reaching the same conclusion he always did: he'd tell 'em if there was ever a real reason for them to know.

He missed Leatherhead. Old pain lanced suddenly fresh through him, and he kinda winced, surprised at how much it still hurt. It wasn't even like they were really _together_…They certainly hadn't, like, _done_ anything. He was just a kid, after all, and didn't really understand his feelings at the time. But he understood now.

_Ugh._ All this with _sensei _was making him think about everybody he'd ever lost, like his brain was trying to like, _prepare_ him somehow.

_Stupid brain. _

His eye wandered over to the photo that he'd taped to the wall by his bed. He grinned, already feeling a bit better. The photo was kinda grainy and had weird lines on it cuz he'd printed it on regular paper, but it was the first time he got to hold Georgie. He was cradling her in his arms grinning up at the camera while Donnie kinda hovered…he was smiling but also looked kinda nervous.

He sighed comfortably, the tension actually fading from his shoulders somewhat – Georgie was so rad. He had no idea he could love somebody so completely, so fast, but Georgie was totally his new favorite person in like, the world. She was super adorable, even when she puked all over him. She even puked cute.

He knew he'd probably never get to have a kid of his own (for multiple, obvious reasons) but he was so glad that Georgie had come into their lives.

Mikey smiled, kissed his finger, and pressed it to Georgie's cute little head.

Finally, he rolled over and went to sleep, pork rinds forgotten.


	12. Chapter 12

Raph stirred sluggishly, the scent of coffee and the clink of a spoon on ceramic dragging him from sleep. He was exhausted – last night had been a doozy.

He sat up slowly from the couch, his aching muscles protesting at the uncomfortable bed. Plus, he'd never gotten a proper stretch or a cool down after last night's patrol. He sniffed, and immediately regretted it.

_Or a shower. _

He wormed his tongue around in his mouth.

_Or brushed his teeth. Ugh. _

"Hey," Candy said, crossing into his field of view and handing him a mug of hot coffee.

"Thanks," he muttered. He took a sip and scalded his tongue slightly. He grunted in annoyance, but the coffee was already waking him up a bit.

"Thanks again," Candy said, plunking down on the sofa next to him. Raph scooted over uncomfortably. Humans didn't usually get this close to him.

"I mean for last night."

"Yeah, I know."

They sipped their respective coffees in silence.

"She still sleepin'?"

"Yeah."

"Good. She tell you how it happened?"

"She just said it was a lab accident," Candy said, despondently, "She's finishing her Doctorate…was…finishing it. Now?..."

She trailed off miserably.

"She's a bio-chemist. Research biology."

Raph blinked in surprise.

"Your sister's a….bio-chemist?"

Candy scowled at him harshly, and Raph withered under her suspicious glare.

"What, you think we're stupid or somethin'?"

"No! Shit, no."

"Not everybody goes to college. Some of us gotta stay home and pay for it," Candy snapped, tapping her foot on the floor, indicating the bar below them.

"Fine! Jesus. I didn't say a thing."

Candy seemed mollified and they sipped their coffee again. Raph actually didn't like black coffee, but always drank it that way. Seemed more butch, and he didn't feel like getting ribbed by his brothers for dumping cream and sugar in it until it was unrecognizable like Mikey did. If Don took it black, he certainly could, too – he wasn't gonna be out tough-guy'ed by his nerdy little brother.

"Yeah," Candy continued, as if there had been no interruption in their conversation, "Bio-chem. She was workin' in a research lab, curin' cancer, or something."

There was a slight knock behind them, and they turned to see Mona leaning on the hallway arch, a hesitant, slightly frightened expression on her face.

"G'morning," Candy said, hastily, "You feelin' – d'you want coffee?"

Raph squirmed, guilty that they'd been caught talking about her and not sure why – it's not like they were sayin' anything bad.

"Um. Okay."

Candy sprang up and dashed to the kitchen to pour Mona a coffee, her nerves making her move a bit too quickly.

Raph nodded at Mona, trying to be casual, then immediately wondered if he should have said hello, but now it was too late to say it without being even weirder. She nodded back, shyly. He surreptitiously tried to check on the scratches on her legs, but she had tied the bed sheet around herself in a kind of toga and belted it with the fuzzy blue terry-cloth belt from Candace's bathrobe. He could see the brownish, rust-like stains where she had bled on it the night before. The ones he could see on her face seemed almost healed already, to his surprise.

"So uh…I guess…I didn't hallucinate you."

"Nope," Raph replied, stiffly, "Sorry."

She held up a scaly hand and studied it, "And I guess…I'm not hallucinating this, either."

Raph watched silently, noted that her hand was trembling slightly.

"How'd it happen?" he asked, quietly.

"We were…it was a research project," Mona said, crossing to the kitchen table, and sinking carefully onto the edge of a chair. Raph pivoted on the couch to face her, as Candy put a cup of coffee in front of her and sat across from her.

"We were studying_ Dactyloidae_. Green anoles, specifically – _Anolis_ _carolinensis_," she said, lifting her hand again, watching in fascination as she opened and flexed her fingers, "Specifically, their autotomy. That means, uh…the way they…can regenerate their tails."

At the mention of tails, her face colored strangely, and she started to turn her head, as though she was going to glance over her shoulder, but she thought better of it, squinching her eyes shut tight. Her chest rose and fell with rapid breaths. Candy put one hand on her forearm, gently. Mona started, then shook her head, as though chasing away a gnat.

"Right. Sorry. Uh…so…autotomy. Sorry."

"Take your time," Candy said, gently stroking her arm up and down.

"The, uh…the thought was by isolating only those genes in the anole that are responsible for their regeneration and combining it with the Kraang mutagen, we could reverse engineer a serum with regenerative capacity in humans. People would be able to heal themselves…it'd mean the end of degenerative disease as we know it."

They waited, knowing there was more coming. Her hands began to tremble. Raph grew impatient waiting and prompted her.

"How did you have access to mutagen? Thought all that leftover Kraang shit was rounded up by the government."

"It was," Mona replied, bitterly, "_That's _the problem. The research was government sponsored. And you're right, there _is_ hardly any mutagen left…part of our task was to find a way to synthesize it."

She shifted uncomfortably, and seemed to collapse in on herself, her shoulders curving forward.

"I had a break-through. I was working on replicating a specific chain of proteins crucial to creating the mutagen, and I found a way to synthesize them by exposing Earth materials to radiation. It wasn't the whole picture, but it was a huge leap forward," she admitted, smiling wanly, "It was going to make my career."

Suddenly, she looked up, turning from Raph to Candy with a desperate look in her eye.

"I really thought I was doing _good_," she pleaded, "I thought I was helping people – eradicating disease, studying new, alien technology…It was the very bleeding edge of science, and I was part of it…I thought we were changing the world for the better."

Raph waited, knowing the other shoe was about to drop. Candy continued to stroke her arm soothingly.

"I was excited," Mona continued, "I went to report my findings to my project supervisor. I was about to knock, but I heard voices...I…I don't know why I listened. I had no reason to be suspicious…"

She got a faraway, haunted look on her face.

"_Why_ did I listen? If I hadn't listened…"

She trailed off, eyes growing glassy as she stared into the middle distance, contemplating the road not taken.

"What did you hear?" Raph asked, gruffly.

"They're weaponizing it," she said, coldly, "They want to use the regenerative capability to create super soldiers – an army that can't be wounded. Blow a limb off, and it'll just regenerate. Like a lizard's tail."

Raph considered this, with a growing sense of foreboding.

"Well…that's 'doing good,' right?" Candy prompted, "I mean…you'd be helping soldiers, so..."

"That's not the worst of it," Mona said, her voice growing darker, "They want to synthesize the mutagen and use it as a chemical weapon, the way the Kraang did – think of it. Beyond just mutating enemy combatants, they could poison water supplies, mutate crops to be inedible…entire nations could be subjugated without firing a single shot. It's going to be the Cold War all over again: an international arms race, plain and simple, but instead of nukes, it's _mutagen_."

She shook her head, pulled her hand out of Candy's grasp and held her head in her hands, as though trying to block out an unpleasant noise.

"I couldn't let them do it. I laid low until he left for the day…then I snuck back into his office, hacked in, copied whatever files I could access onto a data stick, and wiped the hard drive. Then I went back to my own station, and did the same thing. They must have had surveillance, though, because an alarm sounded…I started to run, but soldiers showed up, and there was a man with him…some kind of government spook, in a black trench coat…he grabbed my arm…I managed to slip out of my lab coat, but I crashed into the anole habitat – and the mutagen samples."

She paused, squinting in concentration.

"Things…get a little fuzzy here…It burned. Badly. It felt like I was on fire. I know I ran…I think maybe the only reason I escaped is because I was still covered in mutagen, and none of them wanted to touch me...I heard gunshots, but someone shouted 'Hold your fire!'…I guess that was trench coat guy. I remember making it outside…And then, I fell…someone reached for me and I screamed for them not to touch me…I pulled myself back up again and started running…after that…I don't know. It's just…gone. I don't even remember how I got here."

"Do you remember _anything_ else from last night?" Candy prompted gently.

Mona's hands began shaking again. "It's like…a bad dream…the more I try to remember it the more it slips away. The next thing…the next thing I remember…"

She looked up at Raph.

"You were there. And we…we were walking?"

"That's right," Candy said soothingly, stroking her arm again, "That's right. This is Raphael. He's a friend."

Raph nodded and lifted a hand in greeting.

"Hi," Mona said, weakly, "Candy, how…how do you even know…this…um…"

She was looking him up and down trying to find a word. Raph bristled. He was up half the night keeping her from slipping into a _coma_, and_ this_ is the thanks he got?! She was gonna give him that awful look he knew so well, that look of fear and disgust, that look that says "monster?"

"This what?" he asked, indicating his face with a bitter smile, "This _freak_?"

He nodded at her pointedly, "This _mutant?_"

"Raph!" Candy scolded.

Mona's eyes widened in fear, and Raph felt immediately guilty. She had been through a lot, and was obviously still shaken up. Less than twenty-four hours ago, she'd been a normal human being. Of course she found him repulsive.

He looked away, and slouched down a bit, trying to make himself appear less threatening.

"S'rry," he muttered under his breath.

"I…I don't think you're a freak," Mona stammered uncomfortably, "You're actually kinda…cute. Y'know, for a…turtle."

Raph felt his face heating, and rolled his eyes.

"_Cute?!" Right. Sure, lady. He was "cute" like gangrene._

"Whatever. Listen, if you're alright for now, I gotta get home. But I think you should give me that data stick so my brother can take a look."

"Raph, no," Candy said, as a kneejerk response, "I told you, nobody can -"

"They'll kill you," Mona interrupted, her eyes wide with panic, "This is classified government data, they will literally _kill_ you to recover it. You've already done too much, the more you – "

"Gee," Raph interrupted lazily, "I wonder what it'd be_ like_ to be in constant danger?"

He stood smoothly from the couch and put his hands on his hips in frustration.

"Look – if there's _any _chance of turning you human again, my brother is the one person in the world who can do it. And if there's anyone you can trust with keeping data out of the wrong hands, it's him. This is the only way forward. If you trust me, you trust him. If not…"

Raph shrugged, and spread his hands.

"Best'a luck, and no hard feelings."

He paused as Mona and Candy made eye contact, communicating silently. Candy gave her forearm a squeeze.

"It's up to you, baby," she said in a frightened whisper.

"I'm thirty-three," Mona replied, with a weak smile.

"You're _still_ my baby sister," Candy murmured, yanking her into a fierce hug, "_Always_."

Raph smirked a little, involuntarily thinking of Mikey…he was barely any younger than the rest of them, but it didn't matter – he was forever the baby brother in their weird little family.

_Family. _

He scooped his T-phone off the floor with his toes and kicked it up into his hands like a hackeysack, checking the time. It was already nearly noon.

"Look, I don't mean to rush you, but…uh…"

Mona gulped, gave a jerky nod, and reached up to her neck. Suddenly panicking, she scrabbled and pawed at it, looking for something that wasn't there.

"I got it," Candy said, jumping up, "Wait – I put it with your clothes…hang on."

She went down the hallway, presumably headed to the bedroom. Raph and Mona made uncomfortable eye contact. She tried to smile but it seemed more like a grimace.

"Sorry, about…before. I didn't mean to…"

She gestured to him meekly.

"This is all just...really…_new_."

Raph shrugged noncommittally.

"S'alright. Ya get used to it."

There was a flash of pain in her eyes, and she winced as though she'd been kicked. Raph cursed himself for his insensitivity.

"I meant – look, I can't promise anything, but Do – uh…my brother, he'll…he's really smart," he said, inadequately.

_Right. And Niagra Falls is a bit damp. Ugh. Why couldn't he explain this right? Why couldn't he be good with words like his brothers?_

"I swear, he'll do everything he – "

"Here you go," Candy said, breathlessly reentering the room. She was holding a data drive threaded onto a ball-chain necklace by a key ring. Raph accepted it with a mute nod, tucked it into his wrist wraps, and wound the chain around his wrist for good measure.

"Alright," Raph said, dialing the T-phone, "Candy, I'm gonna call you from this phone."

He jabbed send, and Candace's cell phone buzzed from the kitchen table. Raph hung up.

"Store the number. Call me if you got trouble. And _only_ if there's trouble."

Candy nodded, slumping into the chair next to Mona again.

Raph eyed her phone in irritation.

"Ya gonna – "

"Yeah, Raph, I'm doin' it right now," Candy griped, picking up her phone.

Mona giggled, and Raph looked at her strangely. He didn't think she'd be in a giggling mood any time soon…she had a kinda cute laugh.

He shook his head – they were waiting for him to go and he was just standing there.

"Right, uh…'kay. Bye."

"'_Kay, bye?!" Smooth. _

He grimaced, checked the alley for people, and opened the window.

"Bye, Raphael," Mona called, softly.

He looked back over his shoulder at her. She looked lost, somehow, wrapped in a stained bed sheet, her sister's human hand on her green shoulder.

He nodded as reassuringly as he could, and slipped down the side of the building, releasing his grip, and landing, catlike in the alley. He carefully lifted the lid, slipped into the sewers, and had just dragged it back over his head when his phone began one long, steady vibration against his plastron.

_Shit. Emergency ring. _

He slid down the ladder the rest of the way, fists and feet gliding down the side rails, landing with a jolt that made his knees protest. He whipped his phone out of his belt, knowing it would continue until he picked up. He flipped it open.

"_What?!"_

"Raph," Leo said, "Are you alright?"

"Yeah. What's the problem? Where'm I goin'?"

"Are you on your way home?"

His voice sounded strange somehow…tight.

"_Yes_, Leo, I _told_ you I'd be – "

"It's not him. It wasn't him," Leo shouted, his voice sagging with relief. Even though he was shouting, he sounded a bit softer as if he had turned away from the phone.

Raph blinked. What fresh hell was _this_, now?

"Just…get home.And stay underground," Leo said, his voice tense, "Do _not_ be seen."

"Aright already, Jesus – take the stick out," Raph muttered, half-heartedly, "What the hell is –

"_Just!-"_ Leo snapped, and then Raph heard him inhale deeply. He could almost picture his furrowed brow, and closed eyes as he tried to control his emotions.

"Just get home. _Now."_

Leo hung up.

Raph shuddered, feeling something cold and slimy slithering in his guts, and broke into a run.

**TMNTtmntTMNTtmntTMNTtmntTMNTtmntTMNTtmntTMNTtmnt**

Donnie had arrived at the lair around nine thirty. He'd meant to go earlier, before dawn, but he just couldn't bear to leave April and Georgie a minute sooner than he had to, so he'd decided to wait for the lull right after rush hour to slip into the sewers.

Now that he was nearing the lair, he had to admit it: as much as it had grieved him to be apart from his girls all weekend, he was looking forward to spending some quality time with his brothers, and with _sensei_. It seemed all the more precious now, and it gave him a twinge wondering how many more times all five of them would gather in the dojo for training.

Plus, it might not be the worst thing ever to have one night of uninterrupted sleep.

He hopped over the turnstile lightly, pleased to see Mikey already waiting for him on the couch. His face split into a wide, beaming smile, like a tooth paste commercial, and he bounded over for all the world like a Labrador Retriever, throwing himself into Donnie's waiting arms.

"Deeeeeeeeeeeee!" he chorused, stretching out the single letter into a happy slide.

Donnie laughed, and tugged the tails of Mikey's mask.

"You saw me _last night_, dorkus."

"I _know_, but now I'm seeing you _here_. I haven't seen you _here_ since Georgie was born. Ya hungry? Want brekkers?"

"After," Donnie smiled, "Can't train on a full belly."

Leo entered from the hallway, smiling serenely.

"Hey, Donnie. How's Georgia?"

"Great," Donnie said dreamily, "She's almost figured out where her thumb is, but she still pokes herself in the nose sometimes…she makes the cutest faces."

He sighed heavily, and Mikey squished him even harder.

"Don't worry, dude! We'll keep you distracted all weekend!"

"Head in and warm up," Leo smiled, "I'll go get _sensei."_

"Where's Raph?" Don asked, scanning the room, "He already in there?"

Leo halted in his tracks, and sighed.

"He's not gonna be here for training. Don't worry!" he said, hurriedly holding up his hands, "He's coming, he'll be here…just…not until later."

"Yeah, he had to go to Candy's, like, right after we visited you," Mikey supplied.

Don scowled, his good mood slightly soured with temper. Raph couldn't pull himself away from the bar for _one_ weekend?

"I know," Leo said, reading Don's expression, "I thought the same thing, but…now I'm not sure. I think something might have actually happened."

"Dude!" Mikey said, his jaw falling open, "Raph and _Candy_? You mean it really _was _a booty call?!"

"No! Not that! Well…maybe?"

Leo reconsidered, with a dubious squint.

"He was being weirdly cagey about it…Like, more than usual. I really didn't get the impression he was there to party…"

"Well, whatever," Don said, rolling his eyes and grabbing an ankle to stretch out his quads, "The Man of Mystery can explain it when he graces us with his presence. That, or his _breath_ certainly will."

Mikey chuckled and shoulder-checked Don as he balanced on one foot.

"Hey!"

Don hopped a few times and put his foot back down.

"Oooo, somebody's outta praaaactiiiiice," Mikey teased, doing a lazy backflip away from Don's retaliatory leg sweep. "You are so gonna _get it_ today. We gonna rattle the rust offa you."

"Bring it, Freckles," Don smirked, stretching the other leg, shaking it out, and trotting towards the dojo. 

It was a great workout. Yeah, it was annoying that Raph wasn't there – he'd really been looking forward to "getting the band back together," so to speak – but they could still patrol together tonight, and it was _great _to be back in the saddle. He couldn't believe how just a few weeks off made the conditioning part of practice that much harder…he'd tried to keep up on his own, but it wasn't the same. Mikey kept goading him, though, which made it fun trying to keep pace. Once they moved into sparring, they took turns ganging up on each other, two-on-one. And he and Mikey actually managed to disarm Leo at one point, which, from the way Mikey carried on, might as well have been Christmas morning. Mostly, it was great to see how attentive sensei was. He didn't offer any criticism or advice anymore – Leo had been basically been running practice for months, now. But he seemed alert, at least, and smiled periodically as he observed – Donnie wasn't sure how much was sinking in, but at least he seemed happy.

A few hours later, Leo was toweling off, and Donnie and Mike were seated on the mat with their feet pressed together. They were taking turns pulling each other forward by the wrists, stretching out their hamstrings. As Mikey pulled him forward, Donnie felt his vertebrae crackle and relax pleasantly. He sighed in contentment. It was good to be back in training. He didn't realize how much he missed it.

"Oo…crunchy. Y'okay?" Mikey asked, releasing him slowly.

"Yep," Donnie sighed happily, rolling his neck gently, "Good crunch."

He leaned back and drew Mikey forward. Mikey grunted happily as he sank into the stretch.

"Good?"

"Lil' more."

Donnie carefully leaned back just a bit more…Mikey's chin was practically touching the mat.

"Mmm," Mikey groaned, "Happy hammies."

Donnie chuckled, and gently sat forward again, releasing Mikey's wrists. Bouncing his knees up and down a few times, he grabbed a sports bottle and was squirting some water in his mouth when his T-phone started playing "Georgia On My Mind."

"Ah! April," Donnie smiled.

Mikey snickered, and flicked his wrist, making a whip-cracking noise.

"Wh-_PSSSH!"_

Donnie rolled his eyes, and flicked his phone open.

"Hey, beautiful," he flirted shamelessly, "You miss me alr –"

"_DONNIE!"_

He jerked the phone away from his ear, as April's panicked scream filled the dojo.

"_DONNIE, WHERE ARE YOU? ARE YOU ALRIGHT?! ARE YOU SAFE?!"_

"Yes! Yes, I'm right here, in the dojo – where are _you_? What _happened_?!"

"You're _really_ okay?" she cried frantically.

"Yes, of course, honey," Don said, "What, what is it?"

"Oh, God, I thought – "

She dissolved into unintelligible sobbing.

"April?" Donnie cried, "_April!" _

He put the phone on speaker, so they could all hear, as they all now were gathering close, their brows knit with concern. There was some muffled speech, and finally Casey's voice.

"Don?"

"Yeah, Casey, what happened to April, where's Georgia, is everything –

"Nothing," Casey said, "We're fine, Georgie's fine, just…is _everyone_ there? _All four_ of you?"

"Raph's missing," Don said, feeling suddenly cold, "He didn't come to training this morning."

There was silence on the other end.

"Shit," Casey said, hollowly.

"What happened?" Leo interrupted sternly.

"He didn't?...shit. Shit, shit, _shit_," Casey said, "Call him. Call him right now. And… turn on the TV. Channel six."

Mikey ran out into the living room. Leo was already dialing.

Don picked the phone up and followed Mikey into the living room with a strange sense of unreality, like he was sleepwalking.

"Casey, just tell me what – "

Mikey's gasp cut him off in mid-question.

" – the body of what appears to be a giant, mutated turtle this morning," the news reporter was saying. Donnie's grip on the phone became rigid with fear.

"April," Casey's voice came from the phone, soothingly, "Babe, it's okay…Don? You still there?"

"Y – hang on."

"…were killed, and four were injured in the fight, some eye witnesses even report that the creature was capable of human speech. This comes on the heels of this morning's announcement from NYPD Chief Sterns. We bring you that footage now."

A small rectangle popped up in the upper right corner of the screen, filled with Chief Sterns face. He unfroze, and began to speak:

"…confirming that a dangerous Kraang mutant is on the loose, believed to have the appearance of a lizard. If you see this mutant, do not approach it, it is considered to be extremely dangerous. Maintain a safe distance and dial 9-1-1."

Chief Sterns disappeared, and a cartoon of a turtle with a big question mark over it appeared in the box instead.

"No word yet as to whether this mutated turtle is, in fact, the reptilian fugitive in question, or whether _another_, lizard-like mutant still remains at large – this latest incident has law enforcement concerned and scientists baffled, though some local residents claim they aren't in the least bit surprised."

The picture cut to a skinny guy in a hoodie being interviewed.

"Yeah, man, those turtles, they been runnin' around the 'hood for like, years, man, since I was a kid, man, my cousin, he seed one of 'em like, jumpin' off a roof an' stuff." 

"That was Susan," Mikey said, pointing at the TV with a hollow voice, "The reporter, I mean. She's the one covering for April…probably why she was watching."

"One of 'em saved my life," said a new woman now being interviewed. She was holding a toddler on her hip, "These guys followed me into an alley, and they started messin' with me – they came outta nowhere, this turtle and his human buddy, guy wearin' a hockey mask, and they chased 'em off."

She turned to speak directly into the camera.

"If you're listening, you probably saved my life that night, so thank you."

"Other members of the community are less enthusiastic," Susan's voice continued, in voice-over.

"They should send 'em all back where they came from," said an angry, balding man, "Them and all their Kraang buddies. We don't need no aliens or mutants in New York, okay? This is _our_ city, _our_ planet, _end_ of story."

"In fact," Susan's voice continued, "The fringe group known as H.A.T.E, or 'Humans Against The Extra-Terrestrials' has already issued a statement this morning claiming responsibility for finding and killing the mutated turtle – "

"Oh God," April moaned into the phone, "Donnie…"

"I'm right here, honey."

Don's other hand was gripping the leather of his bo harness in a tight fist. He could feel his heart hammering against his knuckles.

"Me, Mike, Leo and Splinter, are all here, and we're all – "

"Raph," she sobbed, "Raphael – "

"I know," Donnie soothed, his mouth going dry. He tried to put all the confidence he didn't feel into his voice, "I know, honey, we're trying to reach him now. I'm sure it's not – it can't be him. It just can't. He would _never_ – it's a mistake. It's gotta be a mistake."

_It has to be. Please, please, whoever's listening, if anyone's listening, it has to be a mistake. He has to be okay. _

"God, please," April whispered, echoing Donnie's thoughts, "Please, please, please, please…"

She kept whispering it like a prayer, and even though he'd been an atheist since he was ten and found out Stephen Hawking was, he found himself praying right along side her.

"_It's not him_," Leo suddenly called from the dojo. Donnie whipped around to see Leo poking his head out into the living room, weary relief all over his face, "It wasn't him."

"You've got him?" Don called, his voice high and tight, "Is he underground? Tell him to get underground!"

Leo nodded, and covered his other ear, ducking back into the dojo.

"Just…get home. And stay underground…"

Don exhaled a breath he didn't even realize he'd been holding. Mike leaned all the way back into the sofa, his head lolling over the back rest, and put his hands over his face.

"He's okay," Don said, into the phone, "It's not Raph, April. Raph is okay."

"You're _sure_?!"

"Yes, Leo just talked to him. He's already underground, on his way here."

"Thank God! I was so scared!" April sobbed, "I thought for _sure_ one of you – "

He could hear Georgia crying in the background, too, and Casey murmuring soothingly, though whether he was trying to comfort her or April or both he couldn't tell.

"I know," Don said, soothingly, "I know, honey, but we're all okay."

"Stay there!" April said, her voice suddenly stern, "Stay put, don't you _dare_ patrol tonight."

Donnie shifted uncomfortably, not wanting to make a promise he couldn't keep.

"We're not going anywhere now," he evaded, "We're just gonna stay here and wait for Raph."

"Good," April said, firmly, "Good, do that. Donnie, I love you."

"I love you, too."

The T.V. continued to drone on with background they already knew, about the Kraang invasion, and the effects of the mutagen they brought with them, but none of them could look away, and as the minutes ticked on, they watched in silence together – it was enough to hear each others' breath. There was a slight delay, so whatever was said on T.V. was said a half second later in Donnie's ear, but it was somehow reassuring to know that April, Casey, and Georgia were safe, and to imagine them there, stock-still and silent just like the rest of them, just watching and breathing.

The report progressed to showing blurry, shadowy pictures of past "mutant sightings" – to his relief, Donnie didn't see any of himself or his brothers – at least none that could be clearly identified. The blobby pink Kraang mutants from the invasion made up the first part, but Spiderbites showed up once, along with a Squirrelanoid, a couple pics of Razar, a blurry shot of FishFace, and one of Leatherhead.

Donnie darted a glance at Mikey…to anyone else, it would have seemed that he didn't react – but the very fact that he was so still, didn't even say "Hey, it's Leatherhead," meant he was still hurting, even after all these years. Donnie wished he'd just approach him so they could have "the talk," already…but he couldn't rush him. He had to get there in his own time.

Mikey must have sensed Donnie looking at him, because he glanced over and met Donnie's eyes. Donnie gave a weak smile, which Mikey returned, and they both went back to watching the report.

Mikey's phone suddenly began to play the drum solo from "Wipe Out" and he flicked it open.

"Hey, dude. No, we're okay…it's not any of us. Yeah, we're watching it, now. "

He pressed the phone to his plastron.

"Mondo," he said, by way of explanation, and returned it to his ear.

"Are _you_ okay?...I know, dude. Trippy. Look, they said they were looking for a lizard, are you...well, I think you better lay low, man, just in case…"

Mikey scowled, "Dude, that's a really bad – "

Raphael finally appeared, leaping over the turnstile with his signature scowl in place.

Donnie's shoulders slumped in relief, and in that moment, he could've kissed him right on his grouchy lips.

"Raph!" Mikey cried.

"Is that him?" April asked in Donnie's ear, "He's back?"

"He's here," Donnie said, his voice hoarse, "He's safe, we're all here."

"Yeah, alright, I'm here," Raph grouched, "What's…"

He seemed to take in the atmosphere in the room, and looked at the T.V.

"This just in," Susan interrupted, as the camera shifted back to the news desk, "We have just received exclusive, amateur footage of this morning's mutant attack, which we bring to you now – we caution you that some of the images you are about to see may be highly disturbing to sensitive viewers–"

Donnie was filled with dread as he realized he had a good hunch what they were about to see – and who.

"Raph, wait. Don't – "

But it was too late. Slash roared to life in a grainy, jumpy cell-phone video. He was cornered in an alley, swinging his mace in a blind rage, as humans shouted and darted in to attack him. One got a lucky swing in with a baseball bat, but Slash sent him sailing with the mace. Donnie winced – no way had that guy survived. He noted that Slash's Kraang-tech cloaking device was sparking and fizzing on his belt…it must have already been damaged.

"_Spike!"_ Raph gasped, unsheathing his sai automatically, "Where is this? Where _is_ he?"

"Raph," Leo said, sadly, "It's too late, this already – "

_BANG._

They all turned to the screen, watched as Spike staggered, clutching a hand over his chest.

"You shot me!" he bellowed, "You miserable little – "

_BANG._

He jerked as the next bullet impacted his shoulder. He grunted, and sank down to one knee. One of the humans rushed forward with a metal pipe. Donnie quickly closed his eyes and turned his head, but he could hear the sick, wet crunch as the pipe found its target, and Mikey's subsequent gasp.

"_Yeah! Woooooo!"_ the humans in the video were crowing, "That's what you _get_! That's what you _get_, freak! Ya freakin' _alien!"_

Unable to look away, Donnie turned back to the screen, and watched as one of the humans walked into the frame, and put one foot on Slash's shell, like he was standing over a prize trophy. He was wearing a hoodie and had a bandana over his face, but Donnie still recognized him as one of the Purple Dragons. He was holding a gun.

"Raph," Leo said, softly, "Don't look."

Raph just held up a hand to silence him, riveted to the screen.

"Mikey, turn it off," Leo ordered, more firmly.

"Don't you fucking touch it," Raph gritted through his teeth.

Mikey buried his face in his hands, unsure what to do.

On screen, Slash groaned in pain, one hand opening and closing against the ground, as a dark pool of blood spread underneath him.

The human took aim at the back of his head, to the cheers of his comrades.

"Oh God," April sobbed into the phone.

Donnie closed his eyes and hung his head.

_BANG. _


	13. Chapter 13

"Once again, this was the scene just this morning, where citizens cornered and eventually killed a rampaging mutant turtle. The Department of Homeworld Security has already claimed the body of the dangerous mutant, and promises that a thorough autopsy will - "

Raph twirled his sai, turned on his heel, and stomped towards the turnstiles.

"Dude - no," Mikey called after him.

"Raph, he's already gone," Leo called. It was meant to be an order, but he sounded so sad, so tired. "There's nothing you can - "

Raph wheeled about to face them.

"You saw the guy, clear as I did. They gotta learn. And I'm gonna teach 'em. This?"

He jabbed a sai at the television. Donnie tried not to picture it jabbing though vital organs.

"This ain't how it works. Not in _my_ town. You go on a mutant hunt in _my_ town, you answer to _me!_ They gotta _pay_ for what they did!"

"Yes. You're right," Leo immediately replied, holding his hands up in a gesture of surrender.

Raph paused in his tracks, his eyes narrowed in suspicion that Leo was agreeing with him so easily.

"What they did was murder. And they should be brought to _justice.__"_

Raph snorted humorlessly at Leo's emphasis on the word "justice." Donnie had to admit, he was just as pessimistic as Raph that any of those miscreants would see "justice" - at least not the kind Leo was talking about. For one, charging them with murder would mean legally recognizing Sp - _Slash _as a person: a cognitive leap without legal precedent, further complicated by the fact that not all mutants _were, _in fact, sentient. They'd be lucky to nail them for "animal cruelty," as profane as that sounded, and no jury in the world would convict them for killing a rampaging mutant, however provoked he may have been - certainly not in the anti-mutant, anti-alien climate of New York City, where the memory of the Kraang occupation was still a raw, jangling nerve in the collective subconscious.

"You honestly think any of those creeps are going to see the inside of a jail cell for this?" Raph snarled, echoing Donnie's thoughts. "The city'll probably give them a friggin' medal. No, if us _freaks_ want justice, we gotta _take _it."

He turned towards the turnstiles again. Leo stepped forward to stop him, and Donnie found himself mirroring his actions automatically, but Mikey beat them both to it. Dropping his phone, still connected to Mondo, he executed a quick handspring and placed himself between Raph and the turnstiles. Raph scowled.

"Outta the _way_, Mikey." 

"No."

Raph gritted his teeth.

"Move, or I'll _make_ you."

"No!"

Raph growled, and shoved Mikey hard in the plastron. He stumbled back a step, but quickly resumed his stance, arms spread wide, barring the way.

"I'm not kiddin' _around_, Michaelangelo!"

Mikey shook his head and planted his feet stubbornly.

"You wanna go topside, you gotta go through me."

Raph snarled, flipped his sai in his hands so the points were facing inwards, and began attacking Mikey with the handles. Mikey did his best to defend himself, but Raph was scoring some pretty vicious blows.

"Raph! Knock it off!" Leo hollered, "Raph, that's _enough!__"_

Splinter banged his cane on the floor.

"_Yame!__" _

But Raphael was already gone, lost to that red haze beyond reason, where words couldn't reach him anymore.

Leo and Donnie rushed forward to hold him back. Don reached for his right arm, and hissed as the side guard of Raph's sai accidentally carved a neat slice into his forearm. Leo grabbed onto Raph's left arm. Raph let his sai clatter to the ground, balling up his fists, and lunged for Mikey, who dodged out of the way, bouncing lightly on his toes, preparing for the coming storm.

"Raph!" Leo hollered, struggling to hold him, "Calm d- "

But he was cut off, as Raph's struggling fist finally connected with his mouth, splitting his lip. He staggered backwards, as Raph flew at Mikey and engaged him in a knock-down, drag-out, bare-knuckle fist fight.

Normally, Mikey could easily avoid Raph's blows when he was like this - his rage made him easy to read, telegraphing every hit with a huge wind-up. But Mikey wouldn't throw a single punch in retaliation - he ducked away from the worst blows, but mostly, he just stood there and took it, guarding his head, as Raph heaped abuse on his waiting forearms.

Donnie examined his bleeding arm, and shook his head, loosing his bo from its sheath. He was going to put a stop to this. Raph would have a killer headache, but at least he wouldn't -

"No!" Mikey yelled, and Don was shocked as Mikey nimbly kicked his bo out of his hands, and immediately returned to blocking Raph's onslaught, ducking and weaving, taking hit after bone-bruising hit.

"_FIGHT BACK, DAMNIT!__"_ Raph roared, his voice cracking, "_Come on an__' __HIT ME!__"_

A cry of fury and frustration ripped from Raph's throat, and as he delivered his most savage blow yet, he collapsed forward with the momentum - but his knees never hit the ground; Mikey was ready, ducked beneath his swing, and was already waiting with open arms.

He guided him gently to the ground as Raph bellowed out his grief into his plastron, like a wounded beast.

"It's not your fault," Mikey said, softly, "It's _not your fault_, Raph. There's nothing you could have done."

This only seemed to make it worse, and Raph's breath hitched pitifully as he sobbed into Mikey's plastron.

"Jus' _hit _me," he begged, "Jus'…"

He keened miserably, his hands gripping Mikey's shell like a lifeline.

"Shhh. I got ya."

Don eyed the reddening wraps on Raph's fingers and realized he'd probably split his knuckles. Leo and Don made eye contact, and Leo jutted his chin at his forearm.

"Yuh beedig."

Don snorted.

"Look who's talking. Well, kind of."

Leo spat some blood on the floor, and gingerly wiped his chin.

"Aw'll wiv."

Don couldn't remember the last time they'd seen Raph crying like this. I mean, could you really even call it crying? _Howling_, maybe. Honestly, Don couldn't even bring himself to be mad at him. It was a curse that Raph felt things so deeply, a curse he had never been able to run or hide from, despite all his macho bluster. Whatever "punishment" they could devise for this latest outburst, it couldn't be worse than what he was going through right now.

"I gotcha," Mikey kept murmuring softly, like a mantra, "I gotcha, bro."

Leo turned, and slunk off to the lab - probably to get the med kit. Donnie glanced at his arm, and the torn, reddening wrappings…he gently pushed them aside and examined the cut itself - it looked worse than it really was. Probably wouldn't even need stitches.

_Oh, Raph. _

"Dude?" came a small, tinny voice from the direction of the sofa, "Duuuuuuuude?"

Don crossed over to the sofa and picked up Mikey's phone.

"Mondo. It's Don."

"Oh, hey man. Uh…Y'okay over there? That sounds…pretty intense."

"Yeeeah, it's just…"

Donnie sighed.

"He was a friend."

That word may have been a little generous, given the beat-down Slash had previously put on them - but whatever else he became, he _was_ a friend, once. Raph was certainly mourning him like one, and that's all that mattered.

"Oh, dude…man, that _sucks_."

Don glanced over at his brother, a puddle of abject misery on the blood-spattered floor.

"Yeah. Sucks."

"You know - a buncha mutants are getting together. There's a protest tonight at Columbus Circle, and -"

"What?!" Don snapped, his eyes going wide, "No. Bad idea. _Terrible_ idea!"

"Dude!" Mondo objected, hotly, "It's not okay! They can't keep treating us like this!"

"No, what they _can_ do is kidnap you and _dissect_ you!" Donnie retorted.

Raph gave a low, pitiful moan at this, and something inside Donnie snapped into "Don't Mess With My Brothers" mode.

"Mondo - you are going to stay the fuck inside tonight. Okay? _Please_. As a _personal favor_ to_ me._ We seriously can't deal with…anything else. Not tonight. Besides, aren't they _looking_ for lizard mutants?"

"H - whuh?" Raph snuffled. Don ignored him.

"Yeah, but…" Mondo hemmed.

"Stay. In._ Side_," Don gritted through his teeth.

There was an awkward pause, and finally, Mondo sighed heavily.

"Yeah. Yeah, alright, just - tell Mike to call me, okay?"

"Will do."

Don rolled his eyes and snapped the phone shut. "Mike." He wasn't _Mike_, he was _Mikey_. He wasn't sure why it bothered him so much.

_Your little brother__'__s not little anymore. You can__'__t protect him from everything._

Unprompted, the image popped into Donnie's head of that Purple Dragon thug putting his foot on _Mikey__'__s_ shell, aiming his gun at the back of Mikey's -

He grunted involuntarily, and pressed the heel of his hand to his forehead. He couldn't even think about that.

"Who wazzat?" Raph asked, thickly.

Don turned to face him, warily.

"Welcome back," he said, half-serious. When Raph got like this, it was like he disappeared, went somewhere the rest of them couldn't follow. It wasn't until later that he returned to himself, slinking back into his body with that guilty expression, like a kicked dog.

"Yeah," he muttered, eyes downcast, "S'rry."

"That was Mondo," he said, "He got the idea into his head to go to some mutant protest at Columbus Circle tonight."

"He _what?!_" Leo asked at his ear. Donnie jumped. He hadn't even heard him come back into the room. Creepy ninja brothers. Leo was holding the med kit, and he had stuffed some cotton balls behind his fat lip, which was apparently making it easier for him to talk. That was a nasty split, though…it'd probably need a stitch, maybe two. Leo gestured at the couch, and Donnie sat, so he could look at his arm.

"It's fine," Don continued, "I convinced him not to go. He wants you to call him back later, Mikey."

"Yeah," Mikey said, "I will. Thanks, D."

"What was that, though, about…lizards?" Raph asked, hesitantly.

Donnie looked over at Raph, and noticed, for the first time, the flash drive dangling from the wraps on his left wrist. With great difficulty, he suppressed his curiosity for later.

"They're looking for lizard mutants. Well, one in particular, I guess. Chief Sterns announced it this morning."

He watched something cloud Raph's features, and made a mental note to ask him about it later, along with that flash drive.

"I don't think this'll need stitches," Leo said. He'd already swabbed Don's arm with some iodine while they were talking, and he was fishing around in the box for the box of butterfly bandages. "Just some butterflies, yeah?"

Don nodded, wincing as Leo pressed the wound together, lining up a butterfly closure.

"That's fine. But your lip is going to need a couple stitches, Leo. It keeps moving when you talk, it won't heal properly."

"I figured," Leo scowled. A drop of blood slid down his chin, and he wiped it away absent-mindedly with his thumb before unwrapping another closure.

"M'sorry," Raph said meekly, hanging his head, "Sorry, guys."

Leo sighed.

"I'm sorry too, Raph. I'm sorry about…Slash." He paused to make sure he used the right name.

Raph nodded, and from the way his jaw tensed, they could tell even hearing the name was still freshly painful. Mikey hugged him close, but Raph was already coming back to himself, and only allowed it for a moment, before patting him on the shell, and gently pushing him away.

"Sorry, Mikey," he murmured, eyeing the splotchy bruises already forming on Mikey's forearms.

"No big," Mikey said gently.

"Leo," Raph continued, "This is probably bad timing, but - I gotta ask you for a favor. And you're not gonna like it."

Don winced as Leo's grip on the fresh bandages he was winding around his arm tightened. Leo hastily released the pressure, and handed it to Donnie to finish.

"Sure, Raphael," he said wryly, "You wanna ask me before or _after_ Donnie sews up my face?"

"I _said _I was sorry," Raph grumbled sulkily.

Leo made eye contact with Donnie, chuffed in disbelief, and shook his head slowly.

"Sure," he said, "What can I do for you, Raph?"

"So," Raph said, hesitantly, "This lizard they're looking for…I know who it is. And why they're lookin' for her. And…I know where she's hiding."

Leo paused to absorb this.

"She? I'm assuming this has something to do with where you were last night?"

Raph nodded uncomfortably.

"What kind of trouble are you in?"

"I'm not in _any_ trouble!" Raph retorted indignantly, "I'm just helping a friend, that's all."

"Uh-huh," Leo said, folding his arms with a dubious expression, "And what kinda trouble is _she _in?"

Raph scowled.

"She - look, I can't explain it right now. But she's one of the good guys, okay?"

He turned to Don.

"She's gonna need your help, too."

"Me?" Don asked, incredulously, "What does this have to do with me?"

Raph unwound the flash drive around his wrist, and tossed it to Donnie.

"All the answers you need are on that drive. It's top secret government data. She risked her life to get it," he added, dramatically.

Don felt his curiosity blooming, despite his best intentions. Damnit, Raph sure knew how to make it sound…irresistible. He glanced up at Leo, who was eyeing him with a raised brow, as though to say "Surely, you're not buying this pitch."

"Top secret government data, though," he grinned weakly, waggling the drive in his fingers, "Please? I've been a good ninja all year."

Leo rolled his eyes, and turned back to Raph.

"I'm still not hearing a favor."

Raph shifted uncomfortably.

"The place where they're hiding…they're gonna figure it out. It's not safe. They need somewhere they can - "

"No," Leo said, firmly.

"Leo, they - "

"No, Raph, no! Absolutely not! There's no way they can - "

"They're gonna kill 'em," Raph said, simply, "They'll kill her, just like - "

He cut himself off, and looked away, clenching his jaw.

Leo frowned, and moved to fuss with his lip again, but Don gently pulled his hand away. Leo made a small noise of irritation.

"It'll get infected," he offered, apologetically.

Leo sighed heavily.

"Okay. Raph - you call them and tell them to sit tight. After Donnie sews up my _face__…_" he said, and Raph wilted under Leo's stern glare, "…you and I will go collect them. Nobody is going anywhere alone, and I want to meet these people before we bring them down here. _If_, and only _if_ I decide they're on the level - we can bring them down here blindfolded. And it's only until they can make a better plan. That's the deal, take it or leave it."

"Yes, okay," Raph said, immediately, "Whatever you say."

"I must be out of my mind," Leo muttered, shaking his head.

"Leo - thanks," Raph said, timidly, "I know you…you got a lot on your mind, and - "

"_Damnit_," Leo said, suddenly springing to his feet, "_Sensei?_ _Sensei!_"

Don realized suddenly that they hadn't heard from Splinter in a little while. He seemed to have wandered off again. He also realized he still hadn't called April back. He hastily grabbed his phone.

**Prill-O: What****'****s happening? Call me! **

Donnie swiped a quick response:

**Donny Boy: We****'****re ok. Convinced Raph to stay put with only minor bloodshed.**

**Prill-O: Why do I feel like you****'****re not exaggerating? CALL ME. **

**Donny Boy: Can****'****t right now. Leo needs stitches. **

**Prill-O: :( **

**Prill-O: Raph?****  
><strong>

**Donny Boy: Ding, ding, ding.**

**Prill-O: :(**

**Prill-O: I love you. I****'****m sorry about Slash, but I****'****m mostly just relieved it wasn****'****t any of you. Does that make me a bad person?**

**Donny Boy: No. **

**Donny Boy: Love you too. Call you later. **

"Hey, Donnie," Raph said, softly.

He looked up, distractedly. "Hm?"

"You got any retro-mutagen lying around?"

Don furrowed his brow thoughtfully.

"Do I have retro-mutagen 'lying around?' I mean…no. I've got samples…for _study_," Don said, hesitantly, "But nothing that can be _used_. It doesn't work like that, each mutation is unique, and requires a specific variant of the formula. To create a functional dosage, I'd need to make a new batch from square one, and that would require a lot of mutagen - more than I currently have. At this point, _nobody_ has that much mutagen, except maybe -"

"The government. Yeah…I was afraid you'd say that," Raph said, wiping his face wearily, "What if…what if you could _make_ more mutagen?"

Don narrowed his eyes suspiciously, and made eye contact with Mikey, who simply shrugged in bewilderment.

"Damnit, Jim, I'm a turtle, not a kraathatrogon," Don said, arching a brow.

"Huh?"

Donnie rolled his eyes. "No, Raph, I can't just _make_ mutagen."

Raph bit his lip, but didn't reply. Donnie got a weird feeling, and was opening his mouth to ask him what prompted the sudden interest, when Leo came back.

"This way, _sensei_," Leo said, patiently guiding Splinter back into the living room.

"You are hurt," he said, reaching up to touch Leo's lip. Leo gently stopped his hand and brought it back down.

Splinter took in the room and noticed Donnie's arm and Raph's bloody knuckles.

"You are_ all _hurt," he scowled.

"_Sensei_, we had training this morning. Remember?" Mikey smiled, crossing the room to intercept them, "No biggie."

Don shook his head, in spite of himself. It wasn't a lie - it just wasn't the truth, either. So Mikey.

"No fighting outside the dojo?" Splinter said, uncertainly.

"Yup. That's the rules," Mikey agreed, affably, "No fighting outside the dojo. You hungry, _sensei? _You want pancakes? It feels like a pancakes kinda day. With eggs n' bacon! Or in Leo's case, eggs and…kale. Blecch."

Don smiled again. Pancakes and bacon was "special occasion" breakfast. Leave it to Michaelangelo to try and turn the Worst Day Ever into a party. He'd probably even fry up the kale in the bacon fat, and Leo would put up some token resistance, just for show, and Mikey would say it wasn't really cheating, since the rest of them were gonna eat the bacon already, and all that yummy bacon grease would just go to waste, and he wasn't going to get another pan dirty on general principle, and if he didn't eat it, the kale would go to waste too, and Leo would finally, reluctantly give in and secretly enjoy the hell out of it, which was Mikey's master plan to begin with. Don felt a sudden surge of homesickness.

"Mikey? If it's not too much trouble, could I - "

"Sunny side up," Mikey grinned at Don, "I remember."

Don smiled gratefully. Mikey always knew how to make things a little better.

"Come on," Leo said, heading to the lab and gingerly removing the bloody cotton balls from behind his puffy lip, "Lev get dis ova wid."

"You want a local?"

"No," Leo groused wearily, "Jus' do id. Fasser we're done, fasser I ged to neet Waph's seekit girfed."

"She's not my _secret girlfriend_," Raph grumbled, gathering his sai from the ground, and replacing them in his belt.

Leo just shrugged as if he couldn't care less, and stepped into the lab, which only made Raph scowl even more. Don shook his head. For all they complained about Raph's temper, Leo really knew how to push buttons when he got into a snit like this. Then again, Raph had just flipped his shit and _damaged_ them all, so maybe he could cut Leo a little slack for being _snippy_.

Don stood, and began walking towards the lab, stopping to offer Raph a hand up.

"Uh. Thanks," he said, eyeing Don's fresh bandage, "Sorry…again."

"Hey," Donnie offered, conspiratorially, "Want me to just sew it shut, while I'm at it?"

Raph blinked in surprise, and then chuckled, softly.

"Nah, he's - he's actually being pretty cool," he admitted sheepishly, "But uh - if you tell 'im I said that, I'll deny it."

"Perish the thought," Don smirked.

"You comid aw whuh?" Leo called sourly from the lab.

"Yes, O Captain my Captain."

Donnie glanced into the kitchen as he passed by. Mikey was humming to himself, whisking the pancake batter. He'd given Splinter a cheese-sicle to tide him over, which he was nibbling at absent-mindedly. He looked strangely young, despite the gray in his muzzle, sitting on a kitchen stool with his cheese-sicle, watching Mikey cook. Fatigue from his crashing adrenaline suddenly hit him hard. He and Mikey made eye contact again briefly, and did that "no talking-talking" thing they sometimes did.

"_Hang in there, dude.__"_

"_Thanks. For everything.__"_

"_No big. Go fix Leo__'__s face.__" _

"_I__'__m goin', I__'__m goin'.__"_

All this was said with facial expressions and a few nods.

As he finally entered the lab, and started washing his hands, Donnie reflected that as awful a day as it had been so far, he was just so damn _relieved_ that they were all together.


End file.
